Realizations
by wise-said-rabbit
Summary: Just call this "Hipsters' Series 3"...
1. Day 1

Disclaimer: Not mine. Only in my dreams at night do I own Roper.

Rating: R – None of it gratuitous. The subject matter is either dictated by the established storyline or by the nature of the life in the Royal Army.

Notes: Well, the Burns' girls have their series 3, far be it for the Hipsters not to have theirs!

Realization Hohenbruck Army Base, Germany 

**Day 1**

**07:15 hrs, Monday**

Jo paid attention to her suit, making sure that nothing appeared out of place. She checked the mirror as she pulled her hair back. She could do nothing about the dark circles under her eyes. She would not even have Bruce to run interference at the office. He and Angie were off to Cypress. All she had to look forward to was a tense day stuck between Burns and Roper with Frost thrown in for luck. All she could do was look as if nothing were wrong and get through it. She frowned, straightening her jacket.

A knocked sounded at her door.

"Its open." She called.

She spun around. Burns stood in the door. He held a paper in his hand. He just stood there. Jo stood her ground.

"What is it?" Jo snapped. Burns looked around, as if checking to see if she was alone. He stepped in, closing the door behind him. Jo watched him.

"There's been a request to send a replacement to Iraq. Another red cap has been wounded." Anger coursed through her.

"And you want me to go? Your idea of solving all your problems, is it, sir?" Burns looked pained.

"It's not like that."

"Really."

"You're the only one with frontline experience. You can be a soldier again, not just a policeman. That's what you want, isn't it?" Burns used his gentle, fatherly voice. Jo felt like slapping him. "You'd still be in SIB."

"And your life would be much simpler." Jo concluded for him. Burns looked around her room again.

"Jo, it isn't like that. This is a genuine posting. Howard thought you might be interested." He held out the paper to her. She had been in this position before. His personal motives only made this more insidious. She refused to take the paper. Burns growled, exasperated. "Listen, I won't say that the timing of this doesn't look bad but this isn't me trying to get rid of you. You don't have to take it if you don't want."

"And I can stay here?" He leaned back against the wall, surveying her.

"Have you really thought this through?" He asked. Jo kept her expression neutral. "Have you really? Have you thought about the consequences?" She frowned.

"What are you talking about?" Burns rubbed his forehead, looking back over at her.

"I told you my request for commission has been approved. I'll be leaving soon. Roper's in line to take over. Howard won't stand for you two to be on the same team if you're involved, personally, if Roper takes over. It wouldn't be appropriate." He paused. Jo remembered back to him saying something about a commission that night but the words had been overshadowed by his other announcement. The implication sank in. "Haven't quite thought this out, have you?" He parroted her own words back at her. "You can't stay or Roper can't take over." He seemed to wait for her response. Jo remained silent. "Do you think he'll turn down a promotion for you?" Jo did not want to admit that she did not know, or, worse, that she did know. "And if Roper doesn't take it, that leaves Harriet Frost. Do you want to work under her? What about the rest of the team?" Jo remained silent.

"So this is my fault, too?" Burns bestowed her with a benevolent smile.

"It really doesn't matter whose fault it is, does it? Those are your options." He leaned back, crossing his own arms over his chest. They stood there, watching each other. "You don't have to give me an answer right now. Think about it. I suggest you think hard."

Burns placed the paper on the desk, watching her as he did. Jo did not move. He gave her one last long look before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Jo stood, not moving, staring at the white piece of paper. Burns was right about one thing. She had not thought that far ahead. She rubbed her head, feeling a headache coming on. The day that started bleak had all ready grown darker. It was not even eight o'clock yet.

The office stood subdued as she entered. Without Angie at the desk with her ready smile and Bruce fumbling around pretending not to be flirting, the place seemed dim. Only Frost occupied the incident room.

"Jo?" Frost was on her in a second. Jo pasted a smile on her face as she approached. "Another stolen car. Burns asked that you look into it." She held out a piece of paper.

"What's this? The seventh?" With all the other cases breaking lately, the rash of stolen cars on the base had been overlooked. Jo had been hearing about it though, as angry soldiers had queued up at the desk over the last couple of weeks.

"Actually, the fifteenth. Could you check it out?" Jo looked around the room. "I'm afraid everyone else is all ready out. Burns and Roper got called into town." Frost confided. " And I have to be at a courts martial this morning." When Jo did not immediately take the theft report, Frost prompted her, "With Bruce gone, we're short handed."

"Right." Jo pulled the report from Frost's hand. Burns dramatized his point without even being there. She was not sure how long she could play the lower rank with Frost today.

"Are you all right?" Frost asked after her, suddenly friendly.

"I'm fine." Jo answered, not stopping.

The drive across base to the barracks where the car had been taken from afforded Jo time to think. A posting to Iraq would have had her jumping at any other time. A front line assignment was what she had always wanted. She had not joined the army to sit behind a desk. After Bosnia, the possibility of ever being deployed seemed distant. She wanted the posting on her own merits, though. The reasons behind the offer had nothing to do with her abilities. Every fibre of her being railed against taking the posting just on principle.

She parked in the barracks car park. A rather red faced corporal stood there, looking about ready to explode.

"Nice of you to show up." He barked at her. Jo eyed him, pulling her credentials from her pocket.

"Sgt. McDonagh, SIB. Corporal Brannigan?" He nodded.

"The fifth in my section. Are you lot going to do something about this or what?" Jo ignored his insubordination.

"When was it taken?" She asked.

"Last night." He barked. Jo looked about. The barracks were situated on the edge of the base. To the west, a line of trees covered the running trails.

"Do you have any ideas on the time?"

"It was there when I came back from the NAFTI at ten."

"And what time did you notice it missing this morning?"

"06:30." She nodded, more to herself. Fifteen cars could not just disappear off the base. Either they were driven out or trucked out.

"Did you hear anything last night?" He gave her a look as if she were a complete idiot.

"No, or I would have come out here and beat their bloody brains in. Are you going to do something about this or what?" Jo looked about again. The barracks were away from the rest of the base. A tree lined street led out to them. Several other barracks ran south from these barracks, also somewhat secluded. No CCTV cameras watched the pavement.

"Did anyone else hear or see anything?"

"Did you want me to do your whole job?"

"Then that's a no?"

Brannigan rolled his eyes at her.

"You say you're the fifth in the section? And yours was a BMW?"

"Yeah, 3 series, all the trimmings." Jo nodded.

"Nice car."

"Yeah, and I'd like it back."

"What were the other cars that were taken?"

"Why don't you read the reports? You lot are great at taking reports. Ever read any of them?" Jo eyed him. She was more than ready to deal with some officer dressing her down for a missing car. A corporal was not a commissioned officer.

"Yeah, and I can go back to the office and dig the reports out or you can just tell me." She slapped him down. He looked sheepish.

"An Audi, three other BMWs and a SAAB, I think."

"Not bad. All sports models?"

"Yes."

"You must like your cars." Those were all rather high-end cars for regular infantry.

"We have a club." Brannigan sniped. Jo stared him down. He caved. "Sorry. Everything I've got is sunk in her. We really do have a club." Jo regarded him a moment, softening. She shook her head, trying to keep the smile from her face.

"We have fifteen cars reported stolen. Are all of the boys in this club?" He nodded. "What is it with boys and their cars?" He gave her a rather boyish smile.

"Can't get a girl like you without a flash car, Sarge." Jo could only laugh. Brannigan had to be about twenty-one.

"Corporal, it takes more than a flash car to get a sergeant."

Jo settled down at her desk in the quiet of the now deserted incident room to through the stack of theft reports. All the cars taken were high-end sports cars. She started noticing a pattern straight off. All of the cars had been stolen from the barracks on the west side of the base. The seclusion of the barracks lent itself to why the thieves were stealing from those car parks. Stealing the cars was the easy part. They still had to get off the base. Hiding cars on the base would be noticed sooner or later. The thieves could not hide fifteen cars and not expect someone to notice them piling up in a warehouse.

Jo looked up from the reports for a moment. She got up, crossing the floor to the map of the base hanging on the way. Using her finger to pinpoint the area where the cars were disappearing from, she looked over the west border of the base. The barracks were situated about a half kilometre from the actual perimeter. Between the barracks and the border, a thick forest ran the entire length of the base. Jo ran the path there a couple of nights a week. The terrain there did not immediately lend itself to moving cars through but there were places where the trees were spread far enough to get a car through in theory.

"What are you doing?" Jo almost jumped. Burns stood behind her. Howard stood behind him.

"Another car reported stolen this morning. Frost sent me to check on it." She kept her voice and expression as neutral as possible.

"What are you looking at here?" He nodded at the map. Nothing in his countenance gave away the confrontation that morning. Jo hesitated at first.

"All the cars reported are being taken from the west side of the base. These barracks." She pointed.

"Yes?" He prompted her.

"I checked the gates and they haven't seen any of the cars but they have to be getting off the base."

"And you think they're taking them out through the forest?" Burns' tone told her exactly what he thought of her idea. "Isn't it more likely that they're being shipped out in trucks?" Jo kept herself calm.

"The gates are checking the trucks." She had checked with the base guard on the way back to the office.

"And, with all the in and out around here, it is possible that they've missed a truck here or there?"

"They would have had to miss fifteen, sir." She pointed out. Burns regarded her for a moment.

"Right. Carry on." He turned away. Howard stayed as Burns made his way into his office.

"Has the Sgt. Major talked to you?" Howard asked. Jo steeled herself.

"Yes, Sir."

"Have you given it any thought?"

"Not yet, Sir." He nodded, grimacing.

"Needless to say, McDonagh, you would be missed if you decided to take it." Jo did not know how to respond to that.

"Do you think I should take it, Sir?" she asked, gauging him. He regarded her.

"I think its a good opportunity for you," he answered simply, checking behind him as Frost walked in. Howard nodded to Jo, taking his leave. Jo stood there a moment digesting his response.

"What was that all about?" Frost asked, walking up to her. Jo shook her head, looking back at the base map. "What did you find out about the car?" Jo could out of the corner of her eye see the survey that Frost gave her even as she changed the subject.

"Nothing really new. Another sports car. No one at the gates saw it leave."

"Well, they're getting them off the base somehow." Frost told her. Jo resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Having Frost in charge of the section would be a study in discipline, something that Jo was well aware that she lacked. Bruce would never forgive her if it came down to that. "Do you know what was happening in town today?"

"Burns didn't say." Jo kept her eyes focused on the map, trying to get back to the case. If she could figure out where the cars were going, today would not be a total waste.

"Right, well, the courts martial has only broken for lunch. I have to be back after." Frost spoke as if implying something important, jingling her keys in her hand.

Jo left her standing there, going back to her desk, shuffling through the reports. There had not been any glass on the pavement of the car park. The reports noted that all of the victims detailed their keys were also missing.

The drive to the southerly most barracks on the west side of the base only took a few moments. She parked in the car park and headed into the trees, picking up the trail only a few meters inside the tree line. She looked around as she stretched her legs. Nothing seemed amiss. She started north at a slow jog; scanning the ground as she went, glad to be out of her slacks and jacket.

She should talk to Roper. She almost tripped as the thought came to her. She righted herself, pushing ahead, pushing the thought away, focusing on the ground. The trees here stood too close together to get a car through. She could see the barracks just through the trees. She had only progressed about a half kilometre. Up ahead, the trees thinned out. She pressed on.

Roper had earned the promotion. She shook her head, coming into the area of thinning trees. She slowed down, checking the ground closely. Nothing appeared disturbed except for the trail where some leaves had been kicked aside by a passing runner. She checked east. The barracks sat almost right on the tree line, lined with windows the entire length of the building. There was not room to get a car through behind them without someone seeing. She pushed on.

He wanted her but did he want her that much. Jo jogged to a halt, breathing heavy, going in a circle across the trail. It was not a question and Jo knew the answer. She stamped her feet, trying to clear her head. There were a couple of spots still ahead where the trees gave way enough. She took off again.

Even if he did give the promotion up, it would not take long for him to hate her for holding him back. Jo slammed to a stop, holding her head in her hands, rubbing the sweat from her eyes. She did not know where this thing between them was going. She kept moving to keep from cramping up. She was under no illusion that they would wind up married, living happily ever after. If the thought ever crossed her mind, Roper had too many issues with marriage for it to be possible. She understood that. She could live with that. Now was not the time to be going over this. She had a job to do. She set off.

Another half a kilometre in, Jo came upon the next area with sparse trees. She slowed down, checking the ground and tree line. The ground here carpeted with falling leaves stood undisturbed. The barracks stood slightly further away but still too close to the forest to be a good place to get the stolen cars through. She still had a kilometre or so to go before reaching the north most barracks. She considered the thought that maybe she was wrong. The simplest, most reasonable explanation was that the thieves were using trucks to get the cars off base. Fifteen trucks, or less, if they managed to get more than one car in, was not many considering the war in Iraq and the personnel and supplies running through the base every day. Her stubbornness kicked in. She would not know if she did not check her theory out.

Roper had kids; he could use the wage increase. She skidded to a stop, looking around, trying to figure out what had caught her attention. The trail beneath her feet showed no disturbance, hard packed by runners. The trees here stood apart from each other but the undergrowth appeared undisturbed. She looked out to the clearing past the trees. Two barracks stood, facing each other with a spread of pavement between them, set off a bit from the trees. A clear field lay between them and the trees.

Jo paced at a slow jog back and forth up the length of trail, still trying to discern what had stopped her. A car could definitely get through here. No sign of anything like that jumped out at her. The ground to either side of the trail was littered with piles of leaves, dappled with sunlight coming down. Jo looked up. Here the sun bathed the forest floor in light. A breeze snapped at the foliage. Jo kicked a pile of leaves to the side of the trail. The entire pile fluttered about, exposing bare earth. Jo stopped and stooped down. The ground cleared was hard earth just like the trail. She looked up to the tops of the trees again. The closest tree stood a few meters away. She looked down again, pressing her hand into the piles of leaves. There were not enough trees around to explain the amount of leaves piled everywhere. A good wind would blow anything out and onto the field just beyond. She cleared a path in the ground clutter almost all the way to the field. The ground beneath was the hard packed soil as on the trail, too hard packed to give away any tire tracks. She scattered leaves over the earth that she had bared, heading back west to the other side of the trail.

The ground here showed the same signs as the ground on the other side. She glanced back toward the barracks. The land here was level, not creviced and gullied as it was in other places around the base. The ground was almost level as a road. A car could get through here without so much as scraping its undercarriage. She headed deeper in.

Birds twittered overhead at her intrusion, raining down leaves as they hopped on the branches. Jo kept her attention on the ground, searching for anything substantial that would prove a car had been through here. The earth seemed unwilling to give up its secrets so readily. As she progressed, the trees became thicker but still made way for a clearing heading west as large as a two-lane thoroughfare. A few hundred meters in, she leaned down to check what might be a tire tread.

A truck rumbled by somewhere ahead of her. Jo quit the mark in the ground and headed toward the sound. She ran into a wire woven fence. Beyond the fence lay a road. The land to either side of the road was pock marked with dug out holes as if tires had kicked up the dirt. Tracks themselves were evidenced everywhere as if this area were being used as a rest stop. The road was only a narrow country one. Perhaps army trucks used it but they would not pull over here, the gate onto the base being just a few kilometres down the road. She pushed on the fence. The entire length jiggled but did not give. The entire theory went right out if she could not figure out how they were getting through the fence.

She followed the fence down one way, noticing the ground beyond was scratched as though someone had dragged the fence across it. It was not a heavy fence. Loose one end of it and it could be dragged away. She went down about a hundred meters finding no breach. The earth began looking less and less disturbed on the other side. Trees were beginning to grow closer and closer together. She headed back in the opposite direction. She stopped just past the wide trail she had taken here. A fence pole stood in the ground, the fence fastened to it in several spots with what looked like flex ties. Jo crouched down to examine it closer. The metal hooks that had originally held the fence in place looked as though they had given way. She searched the area on her side of the fence, coming up with a cut piece of the flexible plastic being used to hold the fence up. She tugged on the bottom of the fence by the pole. The fence gave way. She ran her eyes up the length of the fence up the pole. It was sheared and then held together by the ties.

Jo stood up, triumphant, dusting off her pants. Finding the thieves would be easy now. All they had to do was stake out this little patch and wait until the thieves tried to get through again. She could check the dates of the thefts to see if there was a pattern to narrow the nights they would need to watch. The gate guards would sleep better knowing that they were vindicated. The base commander would probably not sleep half so well when he found out that they had such a large breach in their security but that could not be helped. Burns could just deal with the fact of yet another one of her theories panning out. Jo smirked to herself at the thought and headed back to the running trail.

By the time she made it back to her car, making sure to cover any disturbance she might have caused along the thieves' path, the sun hung low in the west. She dusted herself off again before she got into the car and then drove to the office, not bothering to stop and shower and change first. If the last car that was stolen was last night, her memory recollected that this was not an every night occurrence. She could just check for a pattern in the nights and then call it a day. It was not half bad of day, considering. She had solved, or almost solved, the case. Corporal Brannigan would maybe get his car back, if it were not all ready across the country.

She pulled up in front of the office, noticing that Roper's car was parked there. The memory of the morning crashed in. She sat for a moment, not getting out. She could not avoid him forever. She could not just not go into the office. She checked herself in the mirror, hating herself even as she did it and got out.

"No messages, your ladyship." The sergeant snapped at her as she went by the desk. She went past without responding, steadying herself as she pushed the doors to the incident room open. Frost and Vicary stood talking by the windows. Roper was not there. Jo almost sighed a breath of relief.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Burns barked at her as soon as she entered. He looked her up and down in her running clothes. "Found your phantom road through the woods?" he needled her. Jo blessed him with her sunniest smile. Not even Roper's scowl could dampen her mood.

"Yes, sir." She answered in her cheekiest tone. She breezed past him, leaving him standing there. She picked up the file of the reports from her desk and went over to the base map. She waited with mock patience as they all came over. Burns moved slowly but she waited for him.

"All of the cars stolen are getting taken from these barracks on the west side of the base. They're taking them through this car park out to the trees. The ground is level here, all the way to the outside fence. They've covered the ground with leaves, too much to come from the trees around there, to a few hundred yards past the running trail. The ground is hard there. I only found one tire track but the outside fence is cut." She held out the plastic tie. "It's being held together to one of the posts with these. I found this one on the ground near there so it looks like they're cutting them and replacing them." She dropped the tie into Burns' hand, giving him another bright smile. Roper coughed to cover his grin. Burns turned his stunned glare on him.

"Now, a road runs past the border here." She pointed to the road on the map. "The ground on the far side of the fence is all torn up, as if large trucks were pulling in and out, but army trucks wouldn't be stopping there considering the base gate is so close." She pointed it out then started flipping through the reports. "It looks like all the cars are getting taken either on Saturday nights, when everyone is sleeping off their night's activities or on paydays, when the boys are at the NAFTI drinking away half their money so we can just watch the spot on the nights they're likely to hit again." She finished, closing the file.

Burns stood there, looking as if she had just reported that peace had been declared in the Middle East. Jo waited, catching that Roper watched him out of the corner of his eyes. Burns looked down at the plastic tie he held then up to the map then at her.

"Right. Then. Well done." He stood there a moment longer before handing the tie back to her. He looked at each of them in turn and then walked stiffly into his office, slamming the door. Jo could not help her triumphant smile.

"Well done, Jo." Roper congratulated her. "When's the next night?"

"Next Friday." Jo tossed the file on her desk, securing the tie in an evidence bag and placing it with the file. She locked both in her desk. "What was happening in town?" Jo let herself relax, giving him the smallest of smiles.

"There was a shooting in town last night." He sidled over closer. "Drugs has been investigating a club owner in town with the German police."

"Danny Johnson?" Roper looked startled, telling Jo she was right. "They've been investigating him for years. Never been able to pin anything on him. You told me that." She reminded him.

"Well, a soldier was killed in his club last night." Jo just nodded, straightening out her desk.

"Well, I'm going to go shower, get this dirt off me. I'll see you in the morning."

Jo checked herself in the mirror. She tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She tried to smile. Her nervousness did not dissipate. She glanced at her mobile lying on the desk.

She took a deep breath, pacing her room a moment to gather her courage.

She picked up the phone, dialling Roper's number.

"Yeah?" Jo's stomach dropped out at Saskia's voice. "Hello?"

"Mum!" The little girl voice, Clare's, ripped at Jo's heart.

"Hello?" Jo clicked her phone closed.

She sat down on the bed, staring at nothing, trying not to cry.

At least the decision was made.

The office was dark. A corporal sat at a desk behind the main one. Jo slammed into the deserted incident room. The only light here was one bar of lights at the far end of the room and a little glimmering through the blinds of Burns' office. She rapped on the door.

"Come in." Burns called. She threw the door open.

"I'll take it." She growled at him. He just stared at her from behind his desk.

"What?"

"The posting. I'll take it." She repeated herself.

"Sgt. McDonagh." She whirled around, standing to attention. Howard stood behind her. "Are you all right?" He looked almost as startled as Burns.

"Yes, Sir. I'm fine. I've made my decision." He watched her closely.

"You don't look 'fine'. Are you sure about this?" He questioned her.

"Yes, Sir. I've given it some thought and I've made my decision. I'll take the posting." He did not look convinced.

"Is there anything else wrong?" He probed. She shook her head.

"Just a little spicy Chinese food for dinner is all." She covered. He looked over her shoulder at Burns. Jo turned back to where Burns had stood up. He looked embarrassed for some reason Jo could not fathom. He looked to Howard.

"Very well, then. You'll have about forty-eight hours before the papers can get pushed through." Howard said behind her.

"That long? I thought they needed someone right away?" It seemed an eternity to stay here.

"This is the army." Burns tried to joke. Jo did not laugh. "You'll need to turn over all your case work. Get any loose ends cleared up. Brief anyone on any cases you have coming up before court." He cleared his throat. "Have you told your family?"

"No, I'm on my way to call them now." She had not thought about that.

"Well, then, I'll start getting the paperwork together." Burns sat back down at his desk. Jo nodded at Howard, who returned her nod, dismissing her. She stopped herself from running out of the office.

Jo left her car at the office, walking back to the barracks. The chilly air on her face was the only thing that kept the tears from coming again. She felt as though her heart had been ripped from her chest. She pulled her jacket tight around her, covering her face with the lapels. She wanted to find some place to hide, a hole to crawl into. The shame of her own feelings made her feel stupid. How she ever thought she could compete with Saskia and his children, how she thought she could ever be anything more than a one night stand seemed to stand a testament to her own stupidity. As always, she was good for a hot, heavy sexual relationship but she was not the one that men went home to. She was the blonde, leggy other woman.

The barracks loomed before her. She broke into a run, bursting through the doors. Starting one of the newer sergeants, she ran down the hall, slamming her door closed behind her. She did not turn the lights on. She did not get changed. She curled up on her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest and covered her face with her hands. The tears came now and they did not stop.


	2. Day 2

**Hohenbruck, Germany**

**Day 2**

**07:00 hrs, Tuesday **

Roper walked past the front desk, noticing something was amiss. It took a moment to remember that Angie was not there. He grimaced, hoping she and Bruce had a better time of marriage than he had.

He went into the incident room. Frost sat at her desk on the phone with Vicary hovering at her side. Jo was not there. He checked his watch, 08:05. He sat down at his desk.

"What's the news on the shooting yesterday?" Roper nearly jumped out of his seat. Burns stood next to his desk.

"Drugs are going to run with it for now. They'll continue to liaise with German police, seeing that we're short-handed right now. They'll keep me informed if they need any help." Burns stared down at him.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Burns asked. Roper frowned.

"No. Should there be?" Burns studied him hard for a moment.

"I hope not." Burns turned and disappeared back into his office.

Jo came storming into the office, blowing past his desk without even acknowledging his presence. She looked as though she had not slept. She looked as though she had been crying. She threw herself down at her desk, ignoring him and Frost who now popped her head up, taking in the scene. Roper fiddled with some papers on his desk, watching Jo out of the corner of his eye. She was pulling stacks of files out of her desk drawers, ignoring him. He needed to talk to her today, to explain himself, put her at ease.

"McDonagh!" Burns bellowed from his office. Jo ran in. Roper flicked through the stack of phone messages on his desk while watching through Burns' blinds. They spoke for a moment until Burns handed her a file. She nodded and they both turned coming out of the office. "We'll discuss your cases when you get back." Burns told her.

"Sir." Jo's velvet voice ran straight to the core of Roper. She walked out of the office. Roper knew her well enough to see that she was holding herself back from running. He looked at Burns for some kind of hint as to what was going on.

"What?" Burns barked, looking from Roper over to where Frost and Vicary were watching the scene unfold. Roper shrugged.

"What's going on, sir?" Frost asked the question. Burns glared at her.

"Mind your own bloody business." He snapped. Frost actually took a step back. Burns turned his attention to Roper. "Roper, you're to liaise with the base border guard."

"What for?" Burns had been heading across the room to the base map. He stopped and gave Roper his unamused look. Roper got up and followed him over. Burns pointed to a section on the west side of the base.

"We're going to set up and catch the car thieves at it the next time they strike, Friday. In the meantime, we need to leave the scene undisturbed. We need to have the guard watching to make sure nothing else is getting through there but they cannot fix the fence or the game is up. Make sure they understand that." Burns went over to Jo's desk, shifting through the pile of folders, pulling one out and handing it to Roper.

"And why am I doing this?" Roper asked, keeping his tone light. Burns stared at him. "Why isn't McDonagh doing it?" Roper pressed.

"She has other things to do today. All of her notes are in there." Burns turned and disappeared back into his office. Roper made a face at the closed door.

"Burns is in a mood, isn't he?" Frost remarked, coming over. Vicary dutifully followed behind her. Vicary's devotion to Frost was a bit creepy to Roper. Roper did not respond to her, flipping open the file. "Its those cars that have been getting stolen." Frost informed him. Roper gave her a glance then went back to the file. She took the hint and went back to her desk.

Roper sat down at his desk and started going through the file. Jo had all the reports of the stolen cars as well as a page of notes in the file. A slip of paper fell out and landed on the floor. He picked it up, turning it over. The paper was caked with dust, showing a rough sketch of some buildings, pavement and a trail out to the fence, with exact coordinates. Roper pulled out the evidence bag, noting that it was a plastic flex tie without opening it. He read down through her notes, not able to hide the grin on his face. A simple stolen car and Jo jumped to the most illogical conclusion and then proved herself right. He shook his head in amusement.

He looked up for a moment, looking out the windows. Something was not right. Jo would never give up one of her cases, not even to him. Burns had sent her out somewhere and did not seem disposed to telling them what was going on. Roper got a very bad feeling. He needed to talk to her today. In the meantime, there was nothing else to be done except to talk with the guard.

Roper was met by a very disgruntled colonel.

"What the hell does Howard mean that I can't fix it?" Colonel Foxworthy bellowed at Roper without preamble. Roper pasted on his best politically neutral expression and steeled himself for the oncoming barrage. "Is he insane? God only knows what else is going out through that hole, or worse, what's coming in!"

"We need to catch the thieves in the act in order to bring them up on charges." Roper reasoned without helping much.

"What the hell do I bloody care if they're brought up on charges? They ought to be shot." The corporal behind the main desk cowered as Foxworthy's voice echoed off the walls. "In the meantime, I have a gaping hole in my perimeter."

"Which we know about and can watch to make sure nothing else is going on."

"So now I'm supposed to spare more men that I don't have enough of to begin with to watch a section of fence that I can't fix?"

"I'm sure we'll lend any support that we can to make sure the perimeter is still secure."

"Bollocks!" The corporal toppled a stack of sign in books. The noise boomed throughout the hallway. "And how are we supposed to watch it without the thieves seeing us?"

"You have heard of camouflage, Sir?" The corporal snickered.

"Sergeant Major!"

"Sir!" A gruff voice answered from one of the offices.

"My office!" Foxworthy stalked down the corridor. A bear of a sergeant major came out of one of the offices, looking down the hall after him. He shook his head, heading after. Roper fell in behind him.

"Cross," the sergeant major introduced himself.

"Staff Roper, SIB." Cross shook his head.

"You lot have caused us a world of troubles over here. The colonel's been screaming at everyone he comes across since Howard called last night."

"We'll owe you a couple of pints." Roper placated him, getting a wicked grin for his effort.

"No doubt. Here we are." He motioned into an office. Foxworthy was stalking back and forth behind his desk. "I have two of my lads out there now, checking the damage."

"They aren't disturbing anything? We don't want the thieves to know that we've caught on." Roper told him. Cross shook his head.

"No, just inspecting and keeping watch. I don't know how this got past us. We do a border patrol everyday." Cross seemed genuinely concerned.

"Well, it looks like these boys, whoever they are, covered their tracks pretty well." Roper consoled him.

"When are you planning on setting up on them?"

"It looks like Friday."

"Friday! That's four days away!" Foxworthy stormed.

"That's the pattern of the thefts. The next night is this Friday." Cross seemed not to notice Foxworthy's bluster, all ready deep in thought.

"I could keep one of the lads out there, rotating four hour shifts. Give them a chance to get out of the gates. They'll do. Are these thieves armed? I don't want one of my lads getting caught out there in the middle of the night without a chance. Do we know how many there are? Who is meeting them on the road?" Roper shook his head.

"All we know right now is where they're getting out, and it is more than likely that they're soldiers." Cross shook his head.

"The lads have radios. I don't like the idea of leaving them out there alone though. Night it might be best to have two out there." Roper grimaced to himself, hating to ask the question when Cross seemed a solid soldier.

"I have to ask, is there any possibility that one of your boys could be involved?" Foxworthy jumped up from where he had just seated himself.

"Outrageous!"

"If a patrol is done everyday, then how did this get missed? We have to at least investigate the possibility."

"We have kilometres of fence, Staff. If the job was done good enough, it is possible it might be missed. I don't like the possibility but nonetheless, its there. I'd like the possibility even less that one of my lads were involved." Cross answered, taking the question seriously.

"How closely do you check the fence?"

"Close enough but, as I said, there's a lot of fence. We keep the fence free from obstructions but its still possible. We won't know until we catch the thieves, will we? Or if they suddenly stop using the breach." Cross added. He nodded to himself, coming to some sort of decision. "We'll be able to keep the area secure until Friday. Will you need us in the operation?"

"I'm sure that we could use your help, after all, it wouldn't do for you not to be in on the glory when your boys are taking all the chances here." Roper softened the blow. Cross winked at him.

"Howard better hope nothing happens." Foxworthy groused to himself.

"Sir?" Cross prompted him. Foxworthy looked up, seeming surprised that they were still there. "Permission to brief the lads?" Foxworthy nodded, bestowing a baleful glare on Roper.

"Never much thought about being a proper policeman." Cross joked as they made their way back down the hall. "Rather a lark." Roper snorted. "Eh, well, you probably do this kind of stuff everyday. It was Sgt. McDonagh who spotted it, wasn't it?" Cross asked, shooting a sideways glance at Roper.

"Yeah."

"Quite a piece of work, that one is, isn't she?" Roper did not appreciate Cross' admiring tone.

"That's one way of looking at it," was all he said.

"Rather hoped she would be the one coming."

"She had other things to do today."

"My loss. She will be there Sunday, though?"

"Its her case. I'm sure she will be." Roper answered.

For as long as he could remember, the office had always been an escape for Roper. The steady influx of work to be done, things he could resolve and worlds he could enter misted over the intolerability of his home life. He sat at his desk, looking about him as everyone else went about their daily duties, wondering when the bars of this new prison would clank around him. There was nowhere for him to escape to now. Even when a moment's reprieve let him concentrate on the case before him, Jo's desk stood vacant right in his line of sight.

Roper caught Burns watching him through the window of his office. Roper rubbed his forehead, sorting the CCTV tapes from outside Danny Johnson's west side club that drugs had left with him, pretending that he did not know Burns was watching him.

"'Morning, Hippy." Thomas sauntered in, followed by Staff Sgt. Michael Donnell from the drugs team. Thomas perched himself on the corner of Roper's desk, toppling one of the piles of tapes.

"You're looking cheerful this morning." Roper groused. Thomas favoured him with a sunny smile.

"The locals in Hamburg identified our shooter. Looks like the theory was right." Mike told him. Roper frowned. "Hans Kimmel. He's a local shooter for one of the dealers over in Hamburg. Looks like Danny's causing such a stir over there they tried to take him out."

"Is Kimmel in custody?" Mike shook his head.

"I have notified my colleagues. They will be looking for him." Thomas answered.

"Well, so we know Danny's trying to expand his market but we still don't know who's helping him get the drugs in."

"Don't be so downcast, Hippy, with you on the case, I'm sure we'll know soon." Nothing seemed to burst Thomas' bubble this morning. The Germans had their shooter as good as caught and the dealer was British.

"If our theory is right, Johnson's club is where the deals are taking place but not where the shipments are coming into. The club is the perfect place for Johnson to meet with his contact from here on the base without raising any suspicions. A lot of our lads frequent it." Mike sat down in the chair next to Roper's desk.

"And why do we think the drugs are coming in from the UK?" Roper asked.

"A clever new trick the London task force has. They've matched the chemical make up of our heroin to stuff they've been pulling off the streets there. The easiest way to get from the UK to here is the army."

"Johnson has plenty of contacts in the UK. Isn't it possible that he's shipping it in himself?" Roper questioned.

"Border has been watching for any of his known associates. They haven't seen a whisper." Mike chimed in. "And why is he courting the soldiers at his club if he isn't trying to get something out of the deal? Plus, if the drugs are just being smuggled over the border, why bring them all the way to Hohenbruck only to take them back up to Hamburg? The jurisdictions between here and there have all ready caught four shipments. Losing those shipments did not even slow down Johnson. He has to have a sure fire way of getting the drugs in, in quantity, which means they're probably coming through the base. It's happened before."

"Have we found anything here?" Mike shook his head. "So its back to trying to figure out who Johnson is meeting with at the club." Roper leaned back in his chair, seeing a day of sitting in front of a monitor, getting eyestrain. "We should concentrate on anyone in logistics or transport. If he's getting so much in that he can afford to lose four shipments, they have to be moving large quantities." Finding a person that you were looking for on a tape was hard enough. Finding a person who you did not know was near impossible. He needed the personnel files of all the soldiers assigned to the sections that could transport without raising suspicion.

"What's going on here?" Burns finally came out of his office, inviting himself into the discussion.

"We identified the shooter." Thomas informed him.

"That's bloody fantastic."

"I've got a corporal getting together the personnel records of anyone assigned to the warehouses and logistics here on the base." Mike put in. "We know the clientele at Johnson's club so we've narrowed our search down to the younger lads, twenty, twenty-five."

"Still a bit to go through though." Burns mused. "And we know the dead soldier wasn't the intended victim?"

"Doesn't look like it. We interviewed the other lads in his section. It was the first time he had been to the club."

"Hippy, how are you getting on with your other cases?" Roper shrugged.

"The only thing I really have going is the car thefts and we're moving on that Friday night." Burns mused to himself a moment.

"All right. Help out drugs but watch in case we need you here." Roper nodded as Burns walked away, back towards his office. He did not miss the pause in Burns' step as he looked over at Jo's empty desk. Thomas noticed, too.

"Where is Sgt. McDonagh this morning?" Roper glanced over at her desk.

"Busy."

"I must get back." Thomas slapped his hands on his legs, getting up. He shook Mike's hand, giving Roper a smile. Roper watched him leave. A thought occurred to him.

"When was the last time one of these shipments got caught between here and Hamburg?" He asked. Mike pulled a notepad out of his pocket, flipping through the pages.

"The eleventh, last Friday."

"How was it packaged? For sale or distribution?" Mike checked his notes again.

"Looks like large bundles. Distribution." Roper chewed on his lip.

"So, we're saying the drugs are coming in here and then being taken off base to somewhere in the Hohnebruck area then shipped out from there?" Mike nodded. "And they probably aren't repackaging them until they get to Hamburg? So what? On and off the base in a couple of days?" Mike nodded, brightening. "Let's start with the records on anyone working Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and cross check them to the witness statements." Roper watched while Frost strode out of the office, Vicary at her heels.

"I'll get the corporal to narrow them down and we can take a look through." Mike got up, heading back to the drugs incident room.

Roper looked around the room. He was alone. He looked up to see if Burns was still in his office, watching. Roper could see him sitting at his desk, engrossed.

The thought occurred to him that if Burns had been so outspoken with him regarding their relationship, what might Burns have said to Jo? That question stopped him cold.

"We've got it narrowed down to eleven." Mike threw down a pack of files on Roper's desk. Roper went back to sifting through the clutter looking for the witness statements. A pile of tapes crashed onto the floor as he yanked the copies out. Roper pretended not to notice, flipping through each type written form, reading off the names. Mike checked them against the personnel listings for the days in question. "Private Richard Westlake and Corporal William Lightner." Mike pulled out the files of the two soldiers who were both working the depot the week before and gave witness statements after the shooting at the club. "What do you say to us going and having a chat with these two fine young men?"

Roper did not want to burst his bubble but they were still a long way from proving anything. Mike had been on Danny Johnson's trail for over a year. This was the closest thing to a lead they had ever gotten. Roper grabbed his coat; following Mike out.

"Its like someone died in there." Mike commented once they were in his car.

"Yeah," was all Roper could think to say as they got going.

A roll of duct tape careened through the air. Mike ducked. Roper did not have the chance. The tape roll smacked him in the head, falling to the floor. Mike managed, somehow, to keep a straight face as Roper rubbed the sore spot, glaring at the two young and not quite not laughing soldiers. The two boys tried to look contrite, failing miserably.

"Private Westlake, Corporal Lightner?" Mike asked in a neutral tone. The two nodded. They looked about fifteen. Their files aged them at nineteen and twenty-two. "I'm Staff Sgt. Donnell. This is Staff Sgt. Roper. SIB. We're here to talk to you about your statements from Monday morning."

"Listen, Staff, we're real sorry. We didn't know anyone was in here." Private Westlake, young, blonde with acne still, blurted out. Roper stopped rubbing his head, looking down at the boy.

"Answer our questions and we'll call it even." He growled in his best menacing tone. Westlake nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, Staff, anything."

"You didn't see the shooting?" Roper started off softly, relatively speaking. He had all ready read their statements. They both shook their heads. "Did you know the soldier that got shot?" They both shook their heads again, reminding Roper of marionette dolls. "Had you ever seen him before? Here or off base?"

"No, Staff, never seen him before. I heard he had just shipped in." Lightner piped up. Westlake nodded.

"Where did you hear that?" They both shrugged. Roper stopped himself from reaching over and shaking both of them.

"Around. Don't know." Roper nodded, looking over to Mike. Mike gave him a barely perceptible nod.

"So, you both hang out at the Blaue Tür regularly?" He asked lightly.

"Nah, too rich for our blood." Lightner scoffed, obviously the more courageous of the two. Westlake was nodding again. Mike actually reached out and held the boy's head still. Westlake froze.

"How did you wind up there Sunday night?"

"Mate of ours, Shane, hangs out there. Likes the local ladies. He's been having a rough go of it lately. We just wanted to cheer him up. We know its off limits, Staff, but Shane's, well, he's been having a tough couple. We just wanted to cheer him up."

"This Shane, he works here with you two?" Roper asked, careful now to keep everything on a friendly level.

"Yeah. Corporal James Shane." Mike made a note on his pad, then checked back through his notes.

"Shane didn't give a witness statement Monday morning. Was he still there when the shooting took place?" Mike asked. Roper watched the two closely.

"Don't know, Staff. We lost track of him early on. He was…uh…doing some bird work, if you know what I mean." Lightner actually winked at him. Mike clear his throat, giving Roper a look that barely concealed his amusement.

"So you don't know what time he left?" Lightner shook his head. Westlake started to, too, until Mike stopped him with a look. Westlake froze again. "How did he get back to base?"

"Don't know. He was here when we got back Monday morning so maybe he got a lift. I haven't really talked to him this week. We've got a big shipment coming through." Mike made a noncommittal noise, making notes in his pad again.

"This Shane, he works here with you?" Lightner nodded. "Where can we find him now?"

"He's probably at the barracks, sleeping. He works the night shift."

"Right. Well, you two think of anything else, you'll let us know?" Mike closed his pad, looking between the two of them. Westlake started to shake his head again. Roper pressed his lips together to keep from grinning.

"Yeah, Staff, we know where to find you. Hope it all works out." Lightner answered.

"We can get back to work now?" Westlake asked, shakily.

"Oh. Is that what you call it?" Mike asked. "Carry on." The two of them scampered off. Mike looked over at Roper. "What do you think?" They started out.

"You don't want to know what I think." Mike snorted.

"If those two idiots are drug smugglers, I'll eat my little red cap." They got into the car. "What do you want to do? Go back to the office first and check this Shane out or just go talk to him?"

"Let's just go talk to him." Roper did not really want to go back to the office just yet.

Shane's barracks stood on the west side of the base. The car park was nearly empty. The inside of the building lay still and quiet. They found Shane's room easily enough. Mike knocked on the door, getting no answer. He knocked again, harder.

"What?" Someone bellowed from inside.

"Corporal Shane? SIB. We need to talk to you." Mike shouted through the door. The door flew open and a soldier with a blanket wrapped around his waist stood there.

"What do you want?" the soldier growled.

"Are you Corporal James Shane?" Roper asked.

"Yeah. What of it?"

"I'm Staff. Sgt. Roper. This is Staff. Sgt. Donnell. SIB. We need to talk to you about Sunday night." They held out their credentials. Shane glared at them.

"Can't this wait? I'm on nights. I'm barely getting enough sleep as it is." Shane's tone was less than helpful.

"No. I'm sorry. This can't wait. Are you going to invite us in or are we going to do this here in the corridor?" Roper steadied his gaze on Shane to punctuate his point. Shane huffed.

"How long is this going to take?"

"It will take as long as it takes for you to answer the questions that we have."

"Fine. Come on. Get on with it." Shane edged his way back to the bed, not turning on the light. Shades over the window blocked out most of the sunlight. Roper turned on the overhead light. "Do you mind?"

"Corporal, keep your tone in check and this will go a lot faster." Mike commented.

"Whatever. What is it you wanted to ask me?" Shane asked, sitting on the bed.

"Where were you Sunday night?"

"I don't know. All over. The boys took me out for a few pints." He grumbled.

"Does 'all over' include the Blaue Tür?"

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know. I was slightly pissed, you know."

"Well your mates said they took you to the Blaue Tür, that you're a regular there." Roper looked around the room while they talked.

"We could have been there. I don't remember." The room was sparse, even by army standards. There were no personal mementos, no pictures save a picture of a BMW sports car on the mirror. It looked like a snapshot rather than a professional shot.

"But you are a regular there?" Mike pressed. Shane grumbled.

"No. I don't know where they got that idea. Been there once or twice but that's it. What's all this about?"

"A soldier was killed there Sunday night, Corporal." Roper interjected, leaning back to see through the tipped door of the wardrobe. The only clothes he could see where standard issue army stock.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard about that. I didn't see anything."

"So you were there?"

"I told you, I don't remember. I had a few, you know."

"Well, how did you get back to base? Your friends said they lost you but that you were here when they got back."

"I walked back." Roper frowned. Shane had no computer. There were not even any magazines or books lying about.

"You walked back? Why? Why didn't you just wait to get a ride back?"

"I told you. I was pissed. I wanted to get back and sleep it off."

"So you left before the shooting occurred?"

"Yes. Listen, I've told you all I know. Can I get back to sleep now?" Roper took another sweeping glance of the room, finishing off by looking at Mike. Mike just eyed him sideways. Roper nodded.

"All right. If you think of anything else, you'll give us a call."

"Yeah, right. Whatever. Close the door on your way out." Shane was back in bed before they had even gotten out the door. Both Roper and Mike kept quiet until they were back in the car.

"Do you think he's just not a day person or was that about something else?" Mike mused out loud.

"There wasn't a thing in his room except what he got from the QM other than the picture of his dream car." Roper added.

"He's definitely worth a look." Mike pulled up in front of the SIB office. "You coming?" He asked when Roper took his time about following. Mike headed back to drugs' incident room. Roper headed back to his own desk.

Roper headed to his desk, going through the pile of personnel records. Shane's was among the ones that Mike had brought. He had been working last week in the depot. Roper flipped through the pages of the file. Shane had all good write ups. His fitness reports all showed an active young soldier. There was nothing outstanding but nothing damaging either. Shane appeared, at least by his records, just one more of the thousands of soldiers in the army. Roper frowned to himself. Something was not right. He just could not put his finger on what the 'something' was. He dialled Thomas' mobile.

"Ja? Das ist Strauss." Thomas picked up right away.

"Thomas, its Roper."

"Hippy, what can I do for you?"

"Did any of your officers report talking to a Corporal Shane Monday morning?" Roper could hear Thomas flipping through papers.

"No. Did you not find his statement in the papers we sent over?"

"He's saying that he left before the shooting, that he never talked to anyone. I just wanted to check."

"I am sorry. He did not talk to one of our polizist."

"Thanks anyway." He hung up and started fishing through the tapes to find the one of the night of the shooting. He pushed it into the tape player. An image flashed on the screen, noting the time near nine in the evening. He picked up the phone and dialled the number for the depot, asking the clerk who answered for Corporal Lightner.

"Lightner." The cheerful voice answered the phone.

"Corporal, this is Staff Roper again. What time did you get to the club Sunday night?"

"Hey, Staff. Um, I think we got there somewhere around twenty-three hundred." Roper hit the fast forward button on the tape player.

"Thanks." He hung up before Lightner could say anything else. He hit play when the timer hit twenty-three hundred.

This tape was one of the surveillance tapes, not from the CCTV, which had been disabled before the actual shooting. The picture was slightly grainy but still quite usable. The undercover was watching Johnson, who was holding court near the far end of the bar, not the front door so Roper did not know if he would even catch sight of the marionettes and their belligerent friend. He hunched over his desk, concentrating on the moving picture, holding the control in case he saw something.

An hour into the tape, he hit the pause control. Moving right across the screen, between where the undercover stood and Johnson sat, were Lightner, Westlake and Shane. He looked closely but he was not mistaken. The time stamp read 00:05:13. He hit the play button. The trio stayed on camera, going to the bar, fooling about while they waited for their drinks. Shane had said that they had been 'all over' and that he had several pints. On the tape, he did not appear to be all that drunk. He stood straight, holding his glass easily. Roper watched him carefully. If Shane was a drunk, he was a coordinated one. He moved out of the way for a bar maid, checking her out while she picked up her order. He did not lean on the bar but stood without assistance, without swaying. The two others appeared a good deal more sloshed than Shane did. He watched as the two tumbled off, back out of the frame. Shane stood by the bar a moment longer then moved to follow, walking straight, no meandering. Roper rewound the tape and watched Shane walk again. He would bet that Shane was not even near drunk.

Shane appeared on the tape several more times. Roper noted a total of three drinks he picked up from the bar. Lightner and Westlake never reappeared on the tape. From the position of the camera, Roper could not see if Shane had finished all three drinks or if he had just bought a round for his friends but each time he appeared in the picture, he still did not appear to be as drunk as he said he was. Roper made a note to himself to find out what Shane was like when he was drunk. The last shot of Shane that Roper found on the tape was just after one hundred hours, ten minutes before the shooting took place.

Considering that they were trying to find Johnson's connection to the base, Roper hoped Shane might approach Johnson but knew it would not be that simple. Drugs had been on Johnson for years without pinning anything on him. Shane never even looked in Johnson's direction. Johnson never moved from his perch in the corner, surrounded by his cohorts.

"It isn't his dream car." Roper nearly fell out of his chair. Mike grinned at his start.

"What?"

"The BMW – it isn't his dream car. He actually owns it." Mike held up a clip of paper.

"What's that?"

"Shane's financials." He handed them over.

"How did you get these so fast?"

"You say drugs, people say how high? He bought the car about a year ago from a local dealership."

"How can he possibly afford a car like that on a corporal's salary?" Roper scanned through the sheath of papers.

"Well, he could, if he wasn't doing anything else with his money. He's been regular on his payments until one four months ago that he missed." Mike slid down in the chair next to Roper's desk. "Everything in his barracks was basic, no luxuries, no comforts, maybe he is legitimate."

"So what happened four months ago that made him miss a payment? If he wasn't spending money on anything else, why did he miss that payment?" Mike shrugged. "Look here, did you get this far?" Roper pointed out the page for the month after Shane had missed the car payment. There were several large withdrawals of cash.

"Maybe drinking away the love of his life? You know what they say about boys and their cars." Roper did not answer, looking back through the papers.

"The large withdrawals stop after three weeks. So do his car payments."

"It definitely warrants another look. Another look tomorrow." Roper looked up. Mike tapped his watch. "I don't know about you but I would like to go home and eat dinner with my kids for once." Roper frowned. "Oh, come on, it can't be that bad."

"You have no idea."

"Get the little woman some flowers and get home. Get some sleep. You look like you could use it." A bouquet showing up would definitely get Jo's attention. Unfortunately, flowers would not help him get any sleep tonight. Sas would be on him again the minute he walked in the door. Mike stood up. "Get some sleep."

"Yeah. Okay." Roper assuaged him. Mike shook his head, unconvinced, and headed out.

"Staff, I thought everyone had gone home." Vicary walked in, sans Frost for the first time that day.

"I was just getting ready to go." Roper knocked over another pile of tapes. "Hey, Sir, what are you working on?"

"Just helping Staff Frost with some of her cases. Why?"

"Would you like to give me a hand with something?" Vicary brightened.

"Of course." Roper handed him Shane's id picture and pointed to the piles of tapes.

"I need to know where he shows up on any of these tapes." Vicary seemed to go paler than his usual pallor, if that was possible.

"But-"

"It would help me out immensely, Sir." Roper patted him on the back before Vicary had a chance to truly protest.

He did not want to miss Jo if she did come back. He pulled out his witness statements from the previous morning, starting to go through them.

Sas would take Andrew and Claire, of course. Roper stared down at the papers without seeing them. She had custody of them. She would use that to try and drag this out. Roper wanted her out of the flat. Burns had been completely out of line calling her. Roper felt like strangling him but Burns had been very outright about his thoughts regarding Roper being involved with Jo. Burns did not see Jo in the same light Roper did. Burns only saw the headstrong soldier. He did not see the woman underneath the uniform. He did not know her the way Roper did.

Roper had no idea on how to convince Sas to leave. He had thought that the knowledge that he was involved with someone else would have been enough to leave him forever. Competition seemed to bring out the worst in her. The knowledge only seemed to make her more determined to keep him by her side even when he had not really been at her side for a very long time. She blinded herself to his disgust. Physically tossing her out was out of the question. For one, he could not forgive himself for the last time he had touched her, years ago. Secondly, the effect that would have on Andrew and Claire would be too much. No, he had to figure out a way to get her out without so much as touching her. He could try changing the locks. The landlord knew that she was his wife, though, and seemed rather taken with her. The old man could have her. He would probably hand over the keys if she asked. It would not be that easy.

The office door opened and Jo walked in. Roper opened his mouth to call her over but she took one look at him and escaped into Burns' office. Frost came in behind her. Frost watched Jo go into Burns' office, flicking a glance at Roper, as if he knew what was going on. Roper stayed at his desk while Burns and Jo came out together and headed over to her desk. He forgot to pretend to be working, watching while Jo went through the files on her desk, handing some to Burns and putting aside others. She mumbled something each time she handed Burns a file. Frost walked over to Roper's desk, watching, too. Burns and Jo did not seem to notice the attention they were getting.

Burns headed back into his office with the pile of files Jo had given him. Roper and Frost watched while she took the other pile and headed to the filing cabinets, methodically stowing each folder. Frost shot a questioning look at Roper. He got up and went over to Jo.

"Jo, what's-"

"Not now." She cut him off, slamming the filing drawer closed. She stood up, looking him directly in the eye, close enough for him to touch her. Her look stopped him. Her brown eyes had that steel that told him she was not in the mood. She held his gaze for a moment, making her point clear before turning away to go back to her desk. Not knowing what else to do, Roper went back to his own. Frost still stood there, watching everything. She finally went to her desk without comment.

Jo started straightening up her desk. Roper did not even bother to look down at his witness statements. Howard came in from the corridor, heading straight over to Jo's desk. They spoke in low tones. Roper could not hear a word. Jo took a look over her desk and stood up. She stood at attention. Howard acknowledged her with a nod, and then held his hand out. Jo shook it and left, without even a glance at Roper. Roper was out of his chair the minute Burns came out of his office with all the files Jo had given him.

"Here, Harriet, you take the quick handed QM sergeant." Burns handed over one of the files to Frost. "Take Mr. Vicary with you on that one." Burns did not seem to notice Roper standing right in front of him. He flipped through the files, tossing most of them on Bruce's desk. "That'll teach him to go and leave us short staffed." He handed the last file to Roper. "Hippy, you take the marauding APC soldiers. Make sure they understand it isn't proper to gallivant about the base half in the bag. And keep the stolen cars." He stopped, realizing Roper had not taken the file. "Is there a problem?"

"What's going on? Why are you handing off all of McDonagh's cases?" Roper growled. Burns looked at him in surprise, and then glanced at Howard, who nodded. Burns looked at Frost and Vicary who were both staring at him, too.

"Oh. Well, I would have thought McDonagh had told you."

"Told me what?" Burns looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"She's accepted a posting to Basra." Everything stopped for Roper. The world faded to black.

"Iraq? Was she requested?" Frost ask somewhere in the distance.

"No, not specifically." Burns answered, muted.

"Is this with SIB? Why wasn't the posting offered to me? I have seniority." Even barely audible, Frost's voice grated.

"I decided to offer the posting to McDonagh." Howard's voice rumbled through the blackness.

"Staff? Are you all right?" Vicary's light touch on Roper's arm brought him back to reality.

"I'm fine." Roper managed to say. He looked around. Only Vicary seemed to notice his reaction. Frost engrossed herself in her annoyance that she had been passed over. Burns appeared irritated at her reaction. Howard looked less than pleased. Vicary just looked concerned for Roper. "When's she leaving?"

"She'll be on a flight out tomorrow morning." Howard said, sending Frost a reproving look before turning to leave.

"Sir, I must protest." Frost started again.

"Protest away, Harriet. The paperwork's been done. McDonagh is going." Burns told her. He fixed a studious glance on Roper a moment, and then disappeared back into his office. Frost stomped over to her desk, throwing herself down in the chair.

"Staff?" Vicary asked again. Roper looked down at him.

"I'm fine, Sir. You'd better make sure Frost is, too." Roper turned, heading to the locker room.

He had to talk her out of it. He needed her here.

He started the car, almost hitting a truck as he backed out of the space. He took a page from the Close Protection manual of driving, making it to the front of her barracks in record time. He did not even bother to lock the car doors, running inside. Her door was closed. He pounded on it with his fist.

"Jo!"

"I think she went out for a run." A sergeant told him, passing by. "She left a couple moments ago."

Roper watched the sergeant head down the hall. He had not seen her on his way over, which meant that she was out running in the woods. He would never be able to find her out there. He tried the doorknob. The door was locked. Roper banged his head against the doorframe, trying to think what to do. He was not going anywhere until he had a chance to talk to her. He stood in the corridor for several long moments before it occurred to him that if she had gone out on a run, she could be gone hours. He settled down on the floor outside her room to wait.

He should have known better. Jo was a loose cannon. She had probably jumped on the posting the moment they offered it to her. It got her back on the front lines where she always wanted to be. She was not the kind to be trapped behind a desk. Her sheer physical strength was one of the things that attracted him to her. Roper was kidding himself if he thought she would give up the chance for him. He would not be able to talk her out of it.

He shook his head. He could not talk Sas into leaving and he could not talk Jo into staying. The irony was not lost on him.

The thought of not seeing her everyday yawned before him. A string of days loomed out, unending, unbearable. He did not know if the transfer was a permanent one. He did not know when he would see her next, if he would ever see her again. The prospect seemed too bleak to think about. His heart lurched. He did not know the next time that he would be gently needled by her when he was getting on her nerves. He did not know when the next time would be that she covered for him without him even asking or thanking her. He might never see her bright smile again, letting him know that she was happy to see him, too. The shy, sweet smile that he had only just come to see, that yanked at his heart, he wanted to see that smile again and again. He wanted to see that hunger in her eyes that told him she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He wanted to see that need every day for the rest of his life.

He stopped himself. She had wanted him. He had not been mistaken. She had told him that she knew what she wanted. She had come when he called. She had faltered, wanting her space, but she had given him another chance. If it had not been for Sas pulling her surprise return, Jo would all ready be firmly entrenched in his life. Jo would all ready be completely his. Sas had come back though. Jo had run, run as fast as she could in the other direction and he could not blame her. He had let her down. She had given him every opportunity. He was the one who could not make it work.

It irritated him that after all the times she had put herself out on the line, put her feelings out there, she could not do that now, for him. The accusation was not fair. Jo had placed herself on the firing line for him. It would be too much to ask for her to completely expose herself for him. He wanted her to do all the same. He wanted her to shed her armour and give herself over to him. She would never risk it. That made him angry. He was ready to lose his kids for her. She could at least be straight forward with him. He was not being fair. He knew it. He just could not stop himself from being angry.

"Get you a chair, Staff?" one of the residents joked, coming down the hall and seeing him sitting there on the floor. Roper realized how it must look. He stood up as the sergeant went into the shower room. His knees complained as he stood. He looked at his watch. It was nearing five o'clock. He could not sit out in front of her room all night. He glanced up the hall as a breeze came through from someone opening the outside doors.

Jo jogged around the corner and stopped when she saw him. She looked around as if searching for some way to escape before slowly starting down the hall. She did not look at him as she unlocked her door from her key hanging around her neck. She went in, throwing her key on the desk as he closed the door behind him. She stood, facing away from him.

"Were you even going to tell me?" He asked. The question came out colder than he intended.

"I was." She did not turn around, her voice colder.

"When?"

"Last night."

"Really? I don't remember anything but ' I'll see you in the morning.' " She turned around.

They stood there staring at each other for a long moment.

"Why?" he asked. She exhaled loudly, pulling off her jacket and tossed it on the bed.

"Because I might never get the chance again." The statement fit but she would not look at him as she said it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the wardrobe.

"How long have you known? All this time? What was I, some distraction while you waited for the paperwork to be done?"

"Don't do this." She warned him, shooting him a glare. "Not everything is about you."

"How long?" She paced in the small space. "How long, Jo? How long have you been stringing me along?" She stopped.

"Stringing you along? What's that supposed to mean? I'm not the one who can't figure out who he wants to be with." She shot back. Roper would have taken a step back if he could at the venom in her voice. This was not going exactly the way he planned.

"How long?"

"Burns talked to me yesterday morning." She whispered, turning away again. "I talked to Howard last night." She pushed the loose strands of hair away from her face as she watched her steps across the floor, pacing again.

"That fast?"

"Yeah." He just looked at her for a moment.

"You didn't even think it was worth talking to me first?" He pushed her.

"Talk to you about what? What, Roper, exactly is it that you want me to say to you? What is it, exactly, that you want from me? Do you want me to say that I don't want to go? I'd be lying. Do you want me to say that you were anything more than a tiny consideration in my decision? Is that what you want?" She raised her voice at him.

"So, that's how it is?" He growled.

"Yeah. That's how it is. You knew who I was before this thing started." She squared off with him.

"Fine. Then you go run off and play soldiers. I hope you have fun." He turned to go.

"Fine." She shouted after him.

"Fine." He yelled back at her.

He had her up against the wall in an instant. Even as she pushed him away with her hands, her teeth grazed his lip, the softness of her tongue against his. He pulled her very breath from her, pushing her hands away. He used his entire body to hold her there. She dug her nails into his chest, through his shirt, trying to break away, while still holding him to her with her kiss. He grasped her neck, pulling her up. She sobbed a breath in the instant he lost touch of her, reaching up herself, fitting her mouth against his again. He waited until she stopped fighting, until she had her fingers running through his hair, to pull back, looking down at her. She was supported only by the weight of his body, gazing up at him. That hunger that he needed to see clearly softened her eyes.

"Don't leave." He whispered.

"Roper." She sighed his name, pulling his head back down to her.

This kiss was of a different kind, rough, full of lust. She pressed her whole body against his as she pulled him deeper into her. He grabbed the back of her head, loosing the hair band. Her hair spilled all around her face. He pushed it back, grazing his fingertips across her ear, earning a sigh from her. He lifted her entire being, setting her down on top of her desk. She never let him go, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. With just a slight movement of her hips, he found himself pressed tight against her, sending warnings throughout his body. He had her lifted again, yanking off her pants and panties even as she fumbled with his belt, all without ever letting go of his mouth. He held her by the nape of her neck as his trousers hit the floor. He grasped the warm, bared skin of her hip and pushed inside of her. A cry escaped her.

"Christ," he growled into her mouth at the sheer feeling of being inside of her at last.

He could not stay still, could not bear the sweetness of it. Jo grasped his hip, digging her nails into his flesh as he began pounding into her. Her soft cries only made his desperation worse. She had her arm wrapped around, holding on. He could not even find her mouth again. She pressed her cheek against his. He could barely open his eyes, seeing that she was lost in the feeling, too, eyes closed, lips parted, breath coming in rushes. He felt the shudder overtake her, even deep inside of her. She whimpered, biting blindly at his neck, not letting go, staying with him. He knocked his head against her, pulling her tighter to him, pummelling her harder with each push, causing her entire body to shudder. His mind stuttered and left him. All he could focus on was his body moving against hers, the velvet warmth of her that seemed to be swallowing him, wanting to crawl inside of her. His entire body stiffened as it felt like she sucked the very blood from him.

They stayed like that, clinging to each other, him shaking, her still being racked with shudders for a long moment. He pressed his face into the side of her neck, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight. Jo run her fingers up through his hair, sending more shivers down his spine, holding his head there. He stayed inside of her, not wanting to be separated from her just yet. She still had her legs clasped around his hips, holding him to her. He sucked in deep breaths of air, trying to get some kind of control back. Blindly, he found her mouth, gaining entry, kissing her so deeply. She kissed him back, pressing her hand against his cheek.

"Don't go," he whispered against her. She made a soft cry against his mouth.

"There are things you don't know," she whispered back, kissing him again.

He lifted her off the desk, loving how she wrapped her arms around his neck again, and placed her down on the floor, following her down, never pulling out of her. She brought her body up to meet his.

"Take this off." He told her gruffly, tugging at her running top.

Jo reached up, nipping his lip as she yanked the top off, baring her torso, pulling him with her back onto the floor. She pushed at his shirt, buttons popping off in her struggle with the fabric. Roper growled into her mouth, breaking away, yanking his shirt off, coming down against her bare skin.

Roper gripped her thigh, pulling her hips up against him. A soft cry broke from her under his kiss. He moved slowly this time, pulling back to watch her. Jo pushed her head back, her hair splaying all around her, arching her body up against his. The feel of her skin against his, her body against his, drove him mad. Jo writhed beneath him, running her fingers all over his chest and throat. He grabbed her wrist, pinning her down to the floor. Jo tried to fight him, pressing herself up to him. She bit his throat, licking the spot. He grabbed her neck holding her there as he moved his hips against her, strands of her hair wrapping around his fingers. Her hushed whispers brushed against his skin, travelling all throughout his body. She arched her neck, twisting her fingers in his hair, pulling at his head. Unable to bear the feel of her, he tore into her mouth.

Jo tossed and twisted, writhing under him, stretching like cat, wrapping her long legs around his hips, meeting each one of his thrusts. Freeing her wrist, he grabbed her head, making her face him. Jo opened her eyes slowly, gazing up at him. He held her gaze as he moved, slowly, deliberately inside of her, watching her face as he did. Her eyes were unfocused, seeing him but not. Her thick lashes brushed against her skin as her eyes closed with each move of his hips. He leaned down to kiss her again as sharp pleasure ripped through him. He grabbed her up against him, trying to stop her from moving, trying to make it last. Jo wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bumping her head against his. Those sweet whispers broke from her lips. He grabbed her mouth with his own, kissing her. He could not hold her tight enough. She whimpered beneath him, moving her hips against his, pushing him right over the edge.

Roper pulled his mouth away from her, sucking in deep breaths. Jo shuddered violently beneath him, her entire body stiffening, shaking. He held her down, hard, on the floor. He thundered into her. Jo threw her arms out, grabbing at the carpeting. Shudders kept racking her frame as she arched her body, crying out. Roper growled through his teeth as his release ripped through him. He collapsed on top of her.

They lay there, wrapped in each other arms, unable to move. Jo pressed her face against his shoulder, pressing kisses against his chest. He lifted his head barely, brushing her hair away from her face. He kissed her brow, her nose, her lips. She sighed, nuzzling her face back into his neck, holding him a little tighter.

He rolled them over, sliding out of her, immediately sensing the loss of her heat. Jo snuggled close to him, fitting her body tight against him, still holding him in her arms. He could feel her breathing deeply, a shudder still fluttering through her. Roper kept brushing her hair, playing with the blonde strands around his fingers. Jo made a soft noise, moving her body against him. Her arms loosened from his shoulders. He looked down to her. Her eyes were closed, her breath coming soft, even. He kissed her temple. She smiled in her sleep.

Roper could not bring himself to break away from her, not even to put her up on her bed. He did not want to let her go, ever. He watched her sleep, overwhelmed for a moment by the depth of his feelings for her. He wanted to fall asleep like this every night of his life, holding her in his arms.


	3. Day 3

**Hohenbruck Army Base, Germany**

**Day 3**

**02:00 hrs, Wednesday**

Sleep filtered away slowly. Jo resisted her body's effort to wake her. Warmth surrounded her. She curled her body, coming up against another body.

Jo opened her eyes. She looked right at the soft mat of hair on Roper's chest. She squeezed her eyes closed, remembering the night before. She could still feel where he had been inside of her.

They were lying on the floor, entwined. Roper held her against his chest, his chin resting on her head. She could see the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept on.

Part of her wanted to get as far away from his as possible. The other part urged her to close her eyes and snuggle back against him. The indecision left her motionless. She tried to clear her mind, figure out a clear course of action. An ache in her heart begged her to stay. Her mind told her to get up, get away.

She turned her head slightly, looking at the clock on the desk. It was still very early but her flight to Basra left in a little over an hour. Heart or not, she needed to get up and ready to go. She looked at Roper's chest again. She did not want to wake him, did not want to talk to him. She did not even know what to say. She did not even know what to think. The turnaround from seeing him with his wife and children to him being inside of her left her feelings in a jumble. She did not know if she was hurt, frightened, angry or even happy. She needed to extricate herself and get away.

Jo slid her leg from between his, feeling his rough skin graze against hers. Roper moved but did not wake up. Jo clenched her teeth, moving her head, loosing herself from his arms. Roper rolled over, resting on his chest. She slipped out from underneath the blanket, covering him back up. She sat up, wrapping her arms around her chest, looking down at him. It took everything in her not to reach out and touch him.

Jo stood up. She grabbed her fatigues that she had set out the night before and her shower kit. She dressed quickly in her fatigues and headed down to the shower, making sure to close the door quietly so not to wake Roper. She showered and changed as quickly as she could. She opened the door slowly, peeking in her room. Roper still slept. She tiptoed back in, stowing her shower kit in her rucksack. She spotted her running clothes from yesterday on the floor by Roper's head. She thought about just leaving them there. She tiptoed around him and gathered them up, stuffing them into her rucksack, too. She snapped up the sack, grimacing with each click. Roper slept through it.

She needed to get out. She picked up her sack, lifting it over her shoulder and headed to the door. She looked back at him, unsure. She opened the door, looking out. The corridor stood empty. She left her sack outside the door and closed the door. She walked hesitantly back over to where Roper lay and knelt down next to him. He slept on. She reached out to touch him then pulled back, sitting back on her heels. Her heart got the best of her. She reached out, running her finger over his brow. He made a noise in his sleep. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. His skin was surprisingly soft against hers. She touched his lips, remembering the feel of his mouth against hers. She ground her teeth, getting up and running out of the room, grabbing her boots on the way out.

She grabbed her rucksack, lugging it down the corridor to the chairs in the common room. She pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry as she pulled her boots on and laced them up. She took the time to check to make sure she was in proper order before lifting her sack and headed out of the barracks for the last time. She checked her watch as the barracks doors closed behind her. She had less than a half hour to get to the airstrip. Carrying her sack, she could do it in about fifteen minutes.

A car horn blared in the morning air. Jo jerked her head up. Burns' car pulled into the parking spot in front of her. Burns poked his head out the window.

"Get in. I'll give you a lift." Jo hesitated. He raised his eyebrows when she did not move. "Come on then." She still did not move. "McDonagh." She finally moved, slowly. She threw her sack into the back seat and got into the front. Burns looked her up and down before pulling out. Jo focused her attention out the window. Neither of them spoke as he drove.

The airstrip loomed in front of them. The C4 all ready stood on the runway. Soldiers were busily loading the plane through the back ramp. This would not be a comfortable ride with airhostesses. Jo stared at the plane, the enormity of her decision hitting her, hard.

"Are you all right?" Burns asked, quietly. Jo looked over at him with what she hoped was confidence.

"I'm fine."

Burns pulled right up on the tarmac, stopping a few hundred meters from the plane. Jo did not waste time getting out and retrieving her sack. She had all ready turned to head for the plane, pulling her orders out, when she heard the car door closed. Burns stood by the side of the car.

"Thank you, sir." She said formally.

"Jo -" he started. She waited. "Are you sure about this?"

"Sir?"

"I mean, are you doing this just because..." he trailed off.

"No, sir. I'm a soldier. I'm supposed to be where the war is." She told him, not because she believed it at this moment, more to get that fatherly look off his face. Burns looked less concerned, giving her that incredulous look that she had come to know, shaking his head.

"Keep your head down, yeah?" He shifted uncomfortably.

"Of course, sir." She gave him a smile, turning away again, heading for the plane.

Even before the plane had pulled to a stop, Jo could all ready feel the cold. She did not know how many time zones they had passed over. She knew it was still in the early morning hours here. She could hear movement outside the plane when they finally came to a stop. Jo started getting herself unbuckled, pulling her headset off, moving to the door. She was up, out of her seat even before someone from the back had the door open. She had her rucksack down as the door opened and hopped out past the soldiers waiting outside. They all took a step back at the sight of her.

Jo surveyed her new surroundings. Even at the dead of night, lights glared about. Weapons here were everywhere. Quiet Germany seemed a very long way away. Dust covered the tarmac, all ready all over her boots and clothes. Jo had heard about the dust here. A red cap pulled up in a jeep nearby. The biggest man she had ever seen got out of the passenger side.

"Sgt. McDonagh?" She nodded, having to crane her neck to see his face as he came to stand in front of her. "Staff Moulton. Good to meet you." He slapped her on the back, almost knocking her over. "You, luv, can call me Steve."

"Jo." She said, moving out of the way when it looked like another back slap was coming. He laughed, a hearty, booming sound.

"Well, get a move on." He told her, heading back to the jeep. Jo slung her sack into the back, crawling into the backseat. "This is our resident boy scout, Corporal Alliwell." Steve introduced the driver, who looked terrified.

"Corporal." She nodded to him. He started the jeep and careened off the tarmac.

"Well, as you've probably guessed, you're not in Germany anymore." Steve gave her a running commentary as they were stopped at a checkpoint. "Security is tight here. Keep your identification on you at all times. Weapons are standard issue but don't pull it out willy-nilly, if you know what I mean. Don't go out in the city by yourself." Jo nodded, watching the city rush by. The chill here seemed more bone chilling than even the winters in the north. It was a dry cold. "Captain's name is Blyth. Good man. The Sgt. Major is Glover. Also a good man. Takes a little getting used to but don't you worry about it. Watch out for Staff Haith. He fancies himself something of a ladies man. You're fellow Sgt. is Sowden. Good kid, young, ready to take on the world and just a little too smart for his own good." Jo smiled at that. "You just keep close for a couple of days. You'll get the hang of it. Any hot postings before?"

"Algiers. Bosnia." He nodded.

"You're from Close Protection, yeah?" She nodded. "Perhaps you can give Alliwell here some driving lessons then." He pounded the corporal on the shoulder, almost throwing him right out the window.

"Staff!" Alliwell protested, yanking the jeep back to the lane. It was a good thing it was so early or they would have wound up in incoming traffic.

"What's the situation like?" She had to shout to be heard over the clunking as the jeep hit a hole in the road. Jo held on, her rucksack bouncing in the back.

"Germany with guns." He joked back. "Same squatties. Same bollocks." They stopped at another checkpoint. These were not lackadaisical base gate guards. They had their weapons trained on the jeep and checked over her papers thoroughly before letting them through. "We'll get you settled in the barracks. You can catch a nap. Morning briefing at 08:00. You can meet everyone then." They passed through another checkpoint, just as thorough, before slamming to a stop in front of a pock marked building with a couple of windows blown out. "Keep it quiet. The boys are pretty serious about their sleep." Steve's voice boomed in the quiet.

Jo grabbed her sack, following the two of them inside.

Their footsteps echoed down the concrete corridor, up the stairs, dimly lit by a single bulb burning from the ceiling. Steve motioned to a door to the right. A piece of tape tried to hang onto the door pencilled in with her name. All ready, the tape had come loose, curling at the edges, the glue on the back all ready coated in the dust that clung to everything. Jo nodded, opening the door. Steve and Alliwell carried on down the hall.

If she didn't know better, Jo would have thought she had walked back into her room in Banja Luka. This was the same cinderblock room with the creaky army bed and caged window. Jo tossed her sack onto the bed, bringing forth a cloud of dust. She tried to muffle her cough. She did not turn on the overhead light. The darkness suited her. She had no idea what time it was here. She had forgotten to check the time difference. She kicked her sack off the other side of the bed, displacing yet another cloud of dust, throwing herself down. Without removing her boots, she laid back, clasping her hands on her belly and closed her eyes. Oddly, sleep came immediately.

The knock boomed throughout the room causing Jo to almost fall off the bed. She was up before her eyes were even open. The sunlight nearly blinded her.

"Sgt. McDonagh. Section briefing, 5 minutes." An unfamiliar voice called through the door. She rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out where she was. Reality hit the minute she opened her eyes.

"Be right there." She called.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Jo spun around as the door opened. A tall, lanky soldier stood there, leaning against the doorway, looking her up and down appreciatively, sparking her ire.

"Who are you?" She snapped. He smirked at her.

"Staff Haith. Boss sent me to escort you to the incident room." He looked at her chest. "If you can get yourself properly attired." Jo looked down. Her shirt had come unbuttoned all the way to below her breasts. She pulled it closed, glaring at him. He smirked again. "I'll wait outside." He turned, walking out but left her door wide open.

Jo faced away from the door, buttoning up her shirt. She tried to push her irritation away as she smoothed her hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck, replacing the pins holding the short ends back. She shook herself and went out. Haith smiled at her, making her skin crawl, before turning. He strode off down the corridor, his long legs carrying him so fast that Jo had to run to keep up. She almost tripped, hanging onto the stair railing to keep from tumbling down. Haith did not even break stride. He passed through the stair door. Jo ran into it as it swung back. Jo threw it open, keeping herself down to a quick walk, refusing to rise to his bait. She saw Haith disappearing into a door to the left. Jo quick-stepped in and slammed to a halt.

"Cup of tea?" Moulton asked brightly.

"Yeah, thanks," she managed, walking forward.

"Sgt. McDonagh." Captain Blyth walked forward.

"Sir." She stood at attention.

"As you were. Did you have any problems getting here?" He asked pleasantly.

"No, Sir." Moulton handed her a chipped mug of tea.

"Very well. I'll leave introductions to the Sgt. Major. Glad to have you here." He smiled at her and left. Jo took a swallow of tea, waiting.

"Well, then." A neat, balding man stepped in front of her. Jo looked up at him. He looked her over, not looking terribly impressed. "Get the niceties out of the way. You've met Staffs Moulton and Haith. That one over there is Sowden, your fellow sergeant." Sgt. Major Glover told her, pointing out a grinning kid all of twenty-five years old. Sowden was busily cleaning his pistol at his rickety desk.

"Can we get down to business now?" Haith asked sarcastically. "Or are we going to have a group hug, too?" Glover stared at her, as if she was the one who said it. The scowl on his face did not break. Jo kept her face neutral.

"What's happening, Boss?" Steve asked.

"The story broke last night on CNN, that's what's happening. We've got reporters crawling all over the place. Now the Americans have decided to lend us a 'hand' and the Iraqis are screaming at every camera they see about how the occupiers are stealing their national heritage. That's what's happening." Glover bellowed. "This is not acceptable."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"We're going to find every single piece of stolen property moving through our base and return them to their rightful owners, that's what. We are going back down to the warehouse and show the powers what we've all ready uncovered and then we're going to search every bloody warehouse that we control. There will be a joint press conference with our command, the Americans and the Iraqis at the warehouse. We're going to make everyone feel warm and fuzzy and then we're going to find out who is responsible for this mess and string them up to the nearest light pole for mucking up my morning."

"All right. You lot heard the Boss. Get moving." Steve clapped his hands. Jo got up slowly. Steve all ready had Sowden by the back of the shirt, propelling him out the door.

"Josey, get moving." Steve hollered back at her.

A convoy of trucks stood, engines running, waiting for them when they reached the courtyard. Jo smoothed her beret over her hair, readying herself for the chaos she could all ready hear on the street outside the front gate of the base. The courtyard milled with soldiers. It looked as though Glover had mobilized every RMP in Basra for this. They were busy climbing onto the trucks. Jo followed Steve and Sowden to the lead jeep, jumping into the back. Steve got into the seat next to her, the entire jeep leaning under his weight. Alliwell hopped into the front next to Sowden. They all turned, watching Haith, Glover and Byth, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, get into the jeep behind them, waiting for the RMPs to finish loading up. Finally, truck horns started sounding, letting them know they were ready to go. Sowden pulled out, wheeling around and heading away from the main gate, towards the side one instead, with the convoy following.

"No point dealing with the bastards if we don't have to." He called cheerfully over the noise.

"You have those manifests for the crates from yesterday?" Steve called up to him. Sowden handed back a sheath of rumpled papers. Jo leaned over as Steve went through them.

"Anything? Any pattern at all?" She asked. Steve looked over each sheet, handing them off to her as he did.

"Nothing. I'm not seeing anything. You?" Jo read through each manifest. There was not a pattern in what kind of shipments going out of the base. Of the five objects they had found yesterday, two had been in crates of weapons headed for disposal, one had been found in a personal parcel, another in a crate of broken machine parts and the last in a sack of ball bearings that were being returned for whatever reason. There was not even a pattern in where the shipments were going. None of the containers were headed to the same base back in the UK. The weapons for disposal were actually headed to Hohenbruck.

"I talked to-" Steve never finished the statement. A wash of bullets ripped through him, tumbling him over Jo's lap.

Jo did not hesitate. She rolled herself out of the still moving jeep as ticks of metal on metal blew past her, dragging Steve with her. Everything from bullets to rocket propelled grenades were flying through the closed in street. She did not remember pulling her sidearm but she shot a man in a scarf that ran at the other side of the jeep. His head exploded into an explosion of red as the jeep shuddered to a stop. She grabbed Sowden, still behind the wheel, dragging him out of the vehicle. Alliwell was not even recognizable as a human being. His body had been shattered by a blaze of gunfire, shielding Sowden.

Jo and Sowden dragged Steve behind a pile of bricks, peeking up to survey the situation. Their ragged jeep was blocking the road ahead of the convoy. The close in building on each side of the street did not give enough room for the larger trucks to pass. At the rear of the convoy, Jo could see trucks burning, flaming bodies jumping from the back, still alive, to the street to writhe. The screams echoed off the bricks.

"We have to get the jeep out of the way." She shouted to Sowden who nodded. They jogged back across the open pavement, ducking and weaving. They had almost reached the jeep when Jo felt the whoosh of the RPG blow over her head. She ducked, dragging Sowden down with her as the projectile hit the jeep, the heat of the explosion so close she smelt her hair burning. She pulled Sowden back with her to the pile of bricks Steve still lay behind.

"Check on him." She ordered Sowden, trying to find a way out.

RMPs were falling everywhere. Their attackers had stationed themselves on the roofs of the buildings, shooting down. There was no place for anyone to escape.

Jo heard the grind of a transmission, looking up just in time to see Haith pull the second jeep past their burning one. His and Jo's eyes met as he careened by, leaving them there. Glover and Byth lay bloodied, not moving, in the back.

"You bastard!" Sowden screamed after him. The jeep disappeared down the street. Jo grabbed Sowden by the shirt as he leapt.

"How is Steve?" She shouted, trying to bring him back to the situation at hand. She would deal with Haith later. Right now, she had to figure a way out of this.

"He's dead." Sowden screamed. Jo turned around. Half of Steve's head was gone. She grabbed his pistol, still in its holster and his spare clips, changing out the empty clip in her own gun. She peeked out again.

Their attackers were launching RPGs at each truck in turn. There was no place for the RMPs who fired back to hide or shield themselves. The only thing shielding she and Sowden was a crevice in the front of the building where they huddled. Jo lifted her pistol and started picking off the men leaning over the roofs of the buildings, drawing their fire down on her. She dropped three, their weapons tumbling down to the street, before she felt Sowden pick her up and toss her through the door of the building to their right. She landed hard, knocking her jaw against the packed floor. She was back on her feet, ready to run back into the battle as he came flying through the door, spinning her around. She heard his shout just as a blow connected to the side of her head. Everything went black.

Anger. Jo opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling of the room wondering why she was so overwhelmingly angry. Involuntarily, her entire body tensed, ready for a fight. Sharp pain ripped through every part of her. Yesterday. Yesterday they had gone through that entire depot. That was why her body hurt but why was she so angry? She stared up at the pock marked ceiling, her vision tunnelling and then clearing. Tea. She thought she could smell tea. It was not tea, though. This smell hung thicker in the air. In the heat, it smelled meaty, metallic. The smell hung all about her. Wet. She was lying in something cloyingly wet.

Jo tried to move and, for a moment, she thought her body had rebelled against her. She managed to get her arm up. She stared at the rivers of red snaking down her skin, not understanding what it meant and why it made her even angrier. A drop of the red liquid splashed on her face. She reached to wipe it away, rubbing the smears of red between her fingers, trying to discern what it was. She held her fingers to her nose. The red smelled of the cooking meat that wafted all around her. The red was blood but why was she bleeding?

Jo managed to sit herself up. Her body very nearly rebelled this time. She checked herself over, not understanding why she found cuts all over her arms and hands but understanding somehow that they were not serious enough injuries to cause the pool of blood she found herself sitting in. She checked herself over again. Her uniform was in shreds. She could not find her beret where she usually stowed it in her pocket. She was in uniform. She should have her beret. She found herself inordinately furious that she had lost her beret.

Metal clanked somewhere. Jo looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. She was not in her barracks. She looked around again, trying to figure out just where she was. The room could have been her barracks, minus the furniture. A light bulb in the ceiling illuminated the square cinderblock room. Besides her, the only other thing there was a pile of blackened, greasy, wet cloth. Jo sat on the floor, looking around, growing ever more angry at every passing moment and still not understanding why.

The door slammed open. Jo watched as three men in. They gathered around her, standing over her as if she were a child. They were dressed in army uniforms but not British army. They had black scarves wrapped around their faces.

"Kneel." One of them barked at her, making her jump.

"What?"

"Kneel." He yanked her up, putting her off balance. She put her hand down in the pile of cloth to steady herself. It was not a pile of cloth. She did not have time to process the information when he dragged her to her knees, pressing her down to sit back on her heels. Jo looked at her hand that had touched the pile of cloth that was not a pile of cloth. Somewhere, someone was jabbering something she could not understand.

"Who is your informant?" Another one of the men ordered her. She looked up from her hand to his face, shielded as it was by the swath of material. His words were thickly accented.

"What?"

"Who is your informant?" He grabbed her by her hair, yanking her up off her heels. Jo reacted without thinking. She went straight for his knees, toppling him back against the wall and landing one good fist into his belly before she was off the floor, flying across the room. She hit the wall, hard, sliding down to the floor, using the momentum to push herself back up. She launched herself back at the men, knowing that she could not overcome them and yet still determined not to go down without a fight.

She was caught, mid-air and tossed to the ground. She came face to face with the pile of cloth that was not. She stared into the glassy, dead eyes of a pretty RMP she had last seen laughing in the courtyard of the base. She kicked at the hand grabbing her ankle. A flush of memory hit her, Steve's mangled head, Sowden's rage, smells of burning human flesh. She twisted, planting a well-aimed kick to one of their knees, satisfied at the scream of pain it brought. She jumped to her feet, ploughing through them when a hand grabbed her hair, yanking her legs out from under her, crashing her back down to the floor. Two of the men jumped on top of her.

Jo fought with every drop of strength in her. For a moment, she got the better of them. One of them grabbed her throat, making her gasp for breath. The other man grabbed her hands, binding them behind her back with something that cut into her flesh. She twisted in their grasp, trying to worm herself free. He grabbed her throat tighter. The one she had kicked in the knee struggled to his feet, leaning back against the wall.

"Who is your informant?" The one who held her throat asked again. His black eyes glittered. Jo glared at him.

"McDonagh, J.-" He slapped her, hard, across the face.

"Who is your informant?" Jo had no idea what he was talking about.

"McDonagh-" He smacked her again, harder. She swallowed blood.

"In the warehouse, who is your informant?"

"What?"

"In the warehouse, who is your informant?" He repeated. Jo clenched her teeth. This was about the pieces they had found in the warehouse.

"McDonagh-" He hit her with his fist, the blow twisting her neck. Jo twisted her head back around, looking him squarely in the eye.

"Who told you to look in the warehouse?" He growled at her.

"McDonagh-" He punched her. Blackness crowded in for a moment then cleared.

"Who told you about the warehouse?" He shouted.

"Piss off." She shot back at him.

This time the blackness did not clear.


	4. Day 4

**Hohenbruck Army Base, Germany**

**Day 4**

**10:00 hrs, Thursday**

Roper kept his eyes closed, hoping that Sas would not notice he was awake. The patter of Claire's little feet pattered past the sofa where he stretched out. He could smell eggs cooking in the kitchen and heard Sas talking to Andrew, perhaps. As soon as he heard Claire in the kitchen, he looked under the blanket at his watch. He did not have to be in the office today, which meant a whole day of dealing with Sas. To make the day even better, he knew that she was going to call him on the fact that he had not come home at all Thursday night and arrived home so late the night before that she had all ready been in bed. He could not keep this up much longer. He had no place to go. Home meant constant fighting with Sas and the overwhelming guilt of what he was putting his children through. The office, haunted by Jo's empty desk, proclaimed what he had almost had but let slip away.

He felt the vibrations of Claire's little feet as she tiptoed to the sofa. He felt her patting his nose with her little girl finger, trying to keep the smile off his face but failing.

"Daddy," she whispered in his ear, "wake up. It's breakfast time." She patted his cheek with her hand until he suddenly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up on him, hugging her tightly. Her sweet giggles were music to him. She wiggled like a worm, twisting around and planting kisses all over his cheek, rubbing her nose against his.

"Are you getting up, Phil?" Roper frowned at Sas's question. The pristine moment of happiness with his daughter dissipated. "I'm making breakfast. Andrew is setting the table now." Sas smiled down at him. She was in her serene, happy family mood today. He might be able to get through fifteen minutes before she started in on him. He hugged Claire tighter, making her squirm, wanting to get back to the moment before. "Why don't you go brush your teeth and wash your face. Breakfast should be done by then." Roper pulled back from her as she ran her fingers through his hair. She did not seem to notice, padding back into the kitchen, her silk robe swirling behind her.

"Daddy?" Claire looked up at him as if she were going to cry. Roper tried to erase the scowl on his face, smiling down at her, kissing the top of her head.

"Go help Andrew set the table." He patted her head to reassure her as he got up. Claire hesitated for a moment before dancing back to the kitchen. Roper gathered up the blanket and pillow he had slept with, stowing them in the closet on his way to the washroom.

Roper stared at the face that looked back at him from the mirror over the sink. He did not even recognize himself anymore. It was not just the dark circles under his eyes. The man staring back at him looked weary of life. He thought back to not more than two weeks ago when he had first realized that there might be more to life than guilt, more than constant pressure, something more than just getting through each time as best he could. That was the night that he realized that something as simple as a soft body against his could turn his world completely around. That was the night that he realized he could be something more than just a pawn in someone else's game. He had tasted just a hint of what life could be like. He could not go back to what it had been.

"Phil, breakfast is ready." Sas called. Roper brushed his teeth quickly and washed his face, heading out to the kitchen.

Andrew grinned at him as Claire went about straightening all the silver before taking a chair. She patted the chair next to her for Roper to sit. Roper tousled her hair, sitting down. Sas set plates of eggs, meat and toast on the table, taking the chair next to Andrew. She smiled at Roper. He filled Claire's plate first and then Andrew's. Sas handed hers to him, irritating him at her presumption. Not wanting to start with her in front of the children, he put some food on her plate, dropping it on the table in front of her. Eggs scattered on the table. Sas shot him a look. Roper ignored her while he served himself.

"What are you doing today, Daddy?" Claire asked around a mouthful of eggs.

"Don't talk while you eat." Sas reprimanded her.

"Working. What are you doing today?" Roper asked Claire.

"There's a fair in the market square today." Sas answered him, not giving Claire a chance. "I thought we'd pack a picnic lunch and walk around."

"You and the children?"

"I thought we could all go, make it a family outing." Sas answered, not looking up. Roper put down his fork, pushing back the irritation. "Kenny Burns would let you go if you asked him."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked as quietly as he could. Sas looked up, puzzled.

"Doing what?"

"Pretending that we're some happy family?" Andrew and Claire went quiet, watching. Sas slammed down her fork on her plate so hard that the porcelain chipped, the piece ticking across the floor.

"At least I'm trying." Her face twisted.

"Trying what?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know exactly what she thought was going to happen here.

"I'm trying to give my children a family and some stability, not like you who can't even tear himself away from his slag to come home to put his kids to bed." She shot back at him. Claire started sobbing. Roper put his arm around her to comfort her, hating himself. "You can't even be bothered to come home at all."

"Andrew, take your sister to your room." Sas stood up, pushing Andrew back into his chair.

"No. Let them stay. Let them see how much their father loves them. Why don't you tell them? Why don't you tell them where you were the other night." She yelled over the table at him.

"Saskia!" He finally raised his voice, not believing that even she would subject Andrew and Claire to this. She took a step back, the look on her face told him she knew she had gone too far. "Andrew, take Claire and go to your room." Andrew got up, taking Claire's hand. He led her slowly out of the kitchen. He waited until they were clear of the room before turning back to Sas. He kept his voice as even and low as he could manage. "I do not care what you say to me but don't you ever talk like that in front of my children ever again."

"Or you'll do what? Hit me again?" She simpered at him, beginning to clear the table. Roper restrained himself.

"You can only use that card so many times. I mean it. Don't ever talk like that in front of my children."

"They're my children, too. They're more mine than yours. At least I'm actually here for them everyday. Why do you even bother to come here? Did you at least take a shower before you walked through our door?" Roper shook his head.

"I was on base, chastising a group of drunk soldiers about driving around APCs." He did not know why he tried to defend himself. Sas snorted.

"Whatever. Is you that two's cover story?" She sniped.

"Jo isn't even here anymore. She's taken a posting in Basra." Roper wanted to get off the defensive. Sas actually smiled at him.

"Good. Maybe she'll get what she deserves there. I hear bullets and rockets are still flying about." Roper advanced on her. It took everything in him not to grab her. The depths that she would resort to left him cold. Sas's eyes got huge. She started backing up, bumping into the counter. "I mean, maybe she finally understands that your family is more important than a quick fling." Roper stopped right in front of her.

It was at that moment that he realized that he hated her. He hated her for what she had turned him into. He hated her for what she made his children endure. He hated her for the repulsive person that she had become. She was not worth one more moment of his life.

Roper turned, heading into the bedroom. He grabbed a pair of jean and shirt, dressing in the washroom. He hunted around for socks and sneakers before heading into the kids' room. Andrew had Claire curled up on his lap, the television playing her favourite programme. He kissed both their heads, tousling their hair.

"I love you both." Andrew nodded. He smoothed Claire's hair away from her tear stained face, tweaking her chin. Claire choked back a sob. Roper left before he started sobbing himself.

He slammed the car door closed, squealing the tires as he accelerated out of his parking spot. He flipped through the radio stations looking for music to suit his mood. He stopped when he heard an announcer talking about red caps. He almost crashed into a car in front of him as he listened to the news report.

"Eleven British army military police are confirmed dead in the attack. Seventeen soldiers are still listed as missing as the army continues to clear the wreckage of the destroyed vehicles. No one has claimed responsibility for the attack. Now for the weather…" Roper tuned out the announcer as he sped through the streets. He nearly drove right through the main gate, causing the guard to jump out of the way as the gate swung up. He screeched the car to a halt in front of the office, tearing into the office.

The desk staff stood transfixed in front of the television monitor blaring pictures of burning bodies and trucks. One young soldier standing next to him started crying, the only noise that broke the silence.

"What's going on out here?" Roper jumped at Burns voice. Burns looked around at everyone. "What is it?"

"Have you heard this?" Roper asked him, pointing to the monitor. Howard came striding in the door.

"What happened?" Burns asked him. Howard scowled.

"A convoy of trucks carrying RMPs out to a warehouse they were going to search got attacked yesterday." Howard growled.

"What about Sgt. McDonagh?" Someone asked the question that would not loose itself from Roper's throat. Howard shook his head.

"This is an ongoing, high profile case. I doubt McDonagh was working on it. She's probably still settling in. I've been trying to get hold of Captain Bylth all morning. Things are quite busy down there. I haven't been able to reach him yet." Howard stormed past them into the incident room.

"Bloody hell." Burns muttered. He looked up at Roper. "He's right, you know. She probably wasn't even there." He looked Roper up and down. Roper did not answer, watching the screen for any glimpse of Jo on the screen. Cold crept over him, remembering Sas's comment. "Phil?" Roper looked over at him.

"I…" Roper could not come up a word.

"Come on," Burns took Roper's arm, leading him away from the group. Roper followed him into his office. Burns went right for the bottle. He poured two glasses, handing one to Roper. Roper drank it all in one swallow, slumping down into the chair in front of the desk, rolling the glass between his hands. "She probably wasn't even there. Our Jo." Burns snorted. "Causing me grey hairs and she isn't even one of my people anymore." Roper looked up at him. "Phil, what are you doing here?"

"I was going to go over some financial records." Roper finally came up with.

"Why don't you spend the day with your family. The records can wait." Burns said gently. Roper scowled at him.

"With all due respect, my life outside the office is none of your concern." Roper did not want to hear Burns' fatherly lectures.

"Phil, all I am saying is that you've got a chance here."

"Thanks to you?" Roper shot at him. Burns had the decency to look guilty. "Did you get rid of Jo to make sure I took the wonderful chance to make my family look like the Swiss family Robinson?" Burns spun himself around, straightening his tie.

"Howard made the decision to offer McDonagh the posting. She accepted it. That is all there is to it. Her reasons don't mean that you shouldn't take this opportunity." Roper cocked his head, staring him down hard. He wanted to know what Burns had actually said to Jo. If he knew what her reasons were, then he must have said something to her. Her reasons would not matter if she took the posting simply because she wanted to be near the action. Now eleven red caps were dead and seventeen missing, and Jo was in the thick of it all.

"What my opportunities are is my business. I would appreciate it if you confined yourself to being my boss instead of my father." Roper turned on his heel, walking out.

He sat down at his desk, looking, without seeing, the piles of papers. He heard Burns' door slam shut.

The breeze as Roper got out of the car in front of the depot did nothing to sweep away the numb gripping him.

"Sgt. Foley?" he asked the desk clerk. She motioned back into the depot. "Mike, you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah." Mike grumbled, coming along.

"Can I help you two?" Roper came up short.

"Sgt. Foley, I'm Staff Sgt. Roper. This is Staff Sgt. Donnell. SIB. We need to talk to you about one of your boys, Corporal Shane." Sgt. Foley, a tall, neat soldier, frowned. Roper noticed that Foley's boots were shined to dress standard. Foley walked past them, stowing his clipboard neatly in the slot on the wall.

"Corporal Shane? What does SIB want with him? He's not in any trouble, is he?" Foley asked without turning around. Roper shot Mike a look over his shoulder to see if he was seeing what Roper was. Foley's fatigues were actually pressed. Roper could see the lines left by the iron. Mike frowned. Roper looked down at Foley's boots. Mike saw it, grinning, too. They followed Foley into a side office. "Have a seat." He motioned to the chairs as he sat down at the desk. The office was just as neat as his uniform. "Now, how can I help you?"

"Corporal Shane, how well do you know him?" Mike asked congenially. Foley straightened the blotter on the desk.

"Pretty well, I would say. He's been here a couple of years." He clasped his hands on the desk. "I really can't see how Shane could be in any trouble. He's as straight as they come. Can you tell me what this is all about?"

"He's a witness to a crime. We're just doing some background checks on him." Mike hedged.

"You said the corporal is a straight arrow?" Roper prompted Foley. The sergeant looked over at him. Roper could not read his expression.

"Right. Yes. He's a solid lad. Good worker." Roper watched Foley.

"He ever caused any problems?" Mike asked.

"No, none that I've ever heard about." Foley shook his head. His face never changed, friendly, eager. "What kind of problems? What are you looking for?"

"Any problems with friends, girls?" Mike pushed. Foley smiled, a gleaming flash of white teeth.

"Well, he's been in a dry spell for a while but no problems that I know of."

"Money problems?"

"Nope."

"Working problems? Has he been late, anything like that?"

"No. He's always the first one here and the last to leave. Wish I had a hundred like him; he gets more done than two of the others."

"Any changes in his behaviour recently?" Foley cocked his head, looking closely at Mike then at Roper.

"What is all this about?"

"As I said, the corporal was a witness."

"A witness to what?"

"I'm sorry. We can't discuss that." Roper cut him off just to see what he would do. Foley sat back in his chair, regarding both of them seriously.

"What was the question?" Foley asked smoothly.

"Any recent behaviour changes?"

"No, not that I know of but you should probably talk to the lads about that. They would probably know better than me."

"Do you know who he hangs about with?" Roper asked. Foley looked over.

"Corporal Lightner, Private Westlake." Roper rolled his eyes, suppressing the groan. Foley laughed out loud. "Met them all ready, have you? They're off duty so you should be able to find them at the barracks."

"Any gambling problems, anything like that?" Mike asked.

"No, nothing like that. A friendly card game every once in awhile but that's it."

"What are the corporal's duties?" Roper almost missed it. Foley's face hardened for just a minute then smoothed again.

"The usual, loading, unloading, packing, unpacking, things like that."

"He checks in boxes as they come in?"

"Yes, he checks manifests."

"Anything else?"

"He transports supplies."

"Off the base?"

"No, no, just here."

"He transports supplies coming in from the UK?" Roper broke in. Mike looked over at him. Foley frowned.

"Well, yes."

"But never off the base?" Roper looked straight at him as he asked. Foley never blinked.

"No. Why are you asking this?"

"Sgt. Foley, could Corporal Shane be involved in smuggling?" Foley reacted immediately.

"No. Shane's a good fellow, as good as they come. He would never be involved with something like that. For god's sake, he still calls his mum every Sunday."

"So what you're telling us is that this Shane is an absolute angel?" Mike asked cheerfully. Foley grinned.

"And don't you even think about stealing him away. He's my lad and I'm keeping him." Mike looked over at Roper. Roper nodded.

"Well, thank you very much for talking with us." Roper stood up.

"Anything I can do for SIB." Foley followed them out. "You do this for all witnesses?"

"Well, wouldn't want anything embarrassing to come out when we least expect it. Prosecutors really frown at us when that happens." Mike joked. Roper kept walking.

Foley saw them out to the car. He even waved as they pulled away.

"Can you believe that guy?" Mike asked once they were away. Roper was silent, thinking.

"Let's go talk to these friends of his. See if their stories match up." Roper finally said, turning the car back toward the barracks.

"You think he was lying?" Roper did not know exactly what to think today. Something was just wrong about Foley.

"Keep your head down this time." Mike joked. Roper smirked at him as they pulled up in front of the barracks. "And watch out for flying objects." The smirk faded. Somewhere far away, Jo was in trouble and he could not help her.

Roper got out of the car, striding into the building. Roper could hear the two of them down in the common room at the end of the hall. He checked through the door before stepping in this time.

"Staff." Westlake recognized Roper immediately.

"Private Westlake. Corporal Lightner." Roper nodded to Lightner.

"Are you going to arrest us?" Westlake asked nervously. Roper cocked his brow.

"Why would we be arresting you?"

"For hitting you on the head?" Roper saw Mike smother a laugh.

"No, that's not why we're here."

"Is this about the shooting at the club still?"

"We're investigating some inconsistencies in Corporal Shane's story." Lightner sat down on the sofa next to Westlake.

"What about? Is he in trouble or something?" Lightner asked.

"We're just doing some background to determine if he was just too pissed to give a correct statement."

"Well, we were all pretty pissed, Staff." Lightner confirmed. "Oh, sorry, have a seat." He apologized when Roper pointed to the other sofa. He and Mike sat across from the two.

"When we talked before, you said that Shane was having a bad time of it lately? What was that all about?"

"I don't know, Staff. It started before his car was stolen but that seemed to really break the camel's back, if you know what I mean?" Roper nodded. "He's been really nervous, you know? Jumpy. Like he'll jump all over you and then five minutes later, he's apologizing for it. He used to be a pretty mellow lad, now…" Lightner trailed off.

"What?" Roper prompted him.

"I don't know. Its almost like he's afraid of something." Lightner admitted haltingly.

"Afraid of what?" Lightner shook his head.

"I don't know. I asked him straight away but he wouldn't tell me."

"Did anything happen right before his car got stolen?" Lightner shook his head.

"A lot of the cars that have been stolen are from friends of Shane's, aren't they?" Lightner nodded. "Could Shane be involved in that?" Lightner shook his head vehemently.

"He's not that sort of lad." Lightner started picking at his nails, then looked up at them. "Shane's in trouble, isn't he?"

"I don't know." Roper lied, actually feeling bad about it. Lightner seemed a good bloke, genuine. "Do you remember anything at all happening right before his car got stolen?" Lightner shook his head without speaking. "Do you know if Shane gambled?"

"A friendly game with the lads now and then."

"Yeh? Was he any good?" Roper asked gently.

"Average, I guess. Won some. Lost some." Lightner shrugged. "They were friendly games, nothing too steep."

"Can you think of anything else that's been different about him since he changed?" Lightner seemed about to speak then stopped. "What is it?"

"Shane was the kind who always wanted to be a soldier, you know?" Roper nodded. "Used to be, he was always on time, laid into any one of us if we were late. Showed up all of us. Did more than the rest of us put together. You just couldn't stop him."

"And now?"

"He always late. He does the work that he's given and nothing more. No joking about, nothing. Does his work and then leaves. Its like he used to like his job. Now its like he hates it." Roper did not miss Mike's pointed look.

"All right. Anything else? Girl problems? Money problem? Things like that?"

"Honest, Staff. I would tell you if I knew. Shane's a good lad. Maybe he's just gotten into something over his head."

Roper stood, Mike following his lead.

"If you think of anything, you'll ring me?" Roper asked.

"Yeah." Lightner said miserably. Roper and Mike walked out. "Staff." Lightner had followed them outside. Roper turned to him. "This isn't about witnessing the shooting, is it?" Roper did not respond. "You can't tell me, can you?"

"No."

"Right. Right." Lightner nodded. "Could you just remember that he's a good lad?" Roper nodded. "Thanks." Lightner went back inside.

Roper got into the car.

"Do you think Foley wouldn't notice that Shane was showing up late?" Roper asked, not really needing an answer.

"Did you see his desk?" Mike asked back. "Do you think his mates would lie?" Roper shook his head. "That's what I thought. What have you gotten me into?"

"I didn't get you into this." Roper said innocently.

Shane had lost some of his bravado. Roper watched him fidget through the window of the interview room. He turned when Burns came in.

"Who's this?"

"Corporal James Shane. He was at the club Sunday night." Roper muttered. "I'm just waiting for Donnell to get back for us to talk to him."

"You all right?" Burns asked, looking through the glass. Roper eyed him.

"As can be expected." Burns turned suddenly, startling Roper.

"She'll be all right. She's too good to…"

"Ready?" Mike walked in. Burns shut his mouth.

"Yeah, let's get on with it." Roper muttered. He did not want to talk to Burns. He did not want to talk to Shane, either. What he wanted to do was catch the first flight to Basra, find Jo and bring her back, to him, to where she belonged. He followed Mike into the interview room instead.

Shane jumped when they came in, eyeing the both of them.

"What do you want now?" Shane tried to muster some anger. Roper stared him down. Shane fell into himself, back into his chair. Roper paced the length of the room while Mike took a seat at the table.

"We have some more questions for you, Corporal." Mike said congenially. Shane shifted in his seat.

"I all ready told you everything."

"And that's that you left the club before the shooting?" Mike maintained his easy-going demeanour. Roper kept quiet.

"Yeah." Shane muttered.

"Then maybe you can explain why we have you on CCTV tapes only minutes before the shooting took place?" Mike placed a picture printed from the tape of Shane at the bar. The time stamp stood out on the corner of the picture. Shane flicked a look at the picture.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Mike prodded gently.

"No. What do you want me to say? I was drunk." Mike nodded. Roper muttered to himself, making Shane glance at him.

"Drunk. "Pissed" was the word you used."

"Yeah."

"Well, you are an incredibly coordinated drunk, then." Mike placed another shot from the video of Shane carrying three glasses of beer. "I can barely carry my own glass, much less three." Shane chewed on his lip.

"I don't know what to tell you." Mike nodded at the non-substantial answer.

"So, it is possible that you were there right until before the shooting?"

"I guess so. I mean, you have the picture."

"And you didn't see anything?"

"No. I left before it happened." Mike leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands on the table and smiled at Shane.

"Not more than a second after the first shot fired, people were running from the club."

"And?" Shane did not see where Mike was going.

"Even if you are the most coordinated drunk in the world, you could not have been more than a block away when people started running from the club." Mike tipped his head. "But you didn't see anything?" Shane just stared at him. Mike calmly put the pictures into the folder in front of him. "Why don't we come back to that?"

"What happened four months ago?" Roper spoke up. Shane jumped, staring at him.

"Pardon?"

"Four months ago, what happened?" Roper paced while he talked, making Shane turn to keep him in view.

"I – I don't know." Mike placed copies of Shane's financials in front of him. "What's this?"

"What happened four months ago?" Roper repeated. Shane stared at the papers.

"I – I don't know what you mean," he stuttered. Roper leaned over and pointed to the four withdrawal notations.

"What were these for?"

"Uh, I don't…I don't remember."

"Two thousand quid and you don't remember?" Roper asked sarcastically. Shane shook his head. "Two thousand quid and you don't remember." Roper shook his head. "I don't believe you." Shane started visibly sweating.

"I gave it to my mum." Roper snorted. "I swear. She needed a new refrigerator." Roper snorted again.

"That's what? A couple hundred quid? What about the rest of it?"

"I don't know. I'm not her bookkeeper. What's this got to do with the club, anyway?"

"We'll get to that." Roper snapped.

"Can you explain how you didn't see anything at the club?" Mike interjected.

"No." Shane's response bordered a yelp. Roper started walking around the perimeter of the room, behind Shane.

"But you've been to the Blau Tur before?"

"Yeah, a couple of times."

"So, you're something of a regular there."

"No."

"But you've been there a couple of times." Mike kept on him. "How'd you find out about it?"

"Don't know." Shane mumbled. "Stumbled on it, I guess." Mike hummed to himself.

"Stumbled on an out of bounds club. That's going to look right lovely on your jacket."

"Look. I don't know what you want from me. Maybe if you told me what you wanted, I could tell you, yay?"

"What we'd really like to know is how you managed not to see anything when a murder took place right in front of you and why you left the scene." Roper barked.

"I told you, I left all ready!"

"And physics state that even if you did leave, you still would have been close enough to see something. Maybe someone running from the scene?" Roper prompted. "Do you know that?" Shane shook his head miserably.

"We'd also like to know how you managed to get back to base if you left your mates at the club to fend for themselves. Do you know that?"

"I told you, I walked."

"Well, the base gate doesn't say the same thing, Corporal." Roper lied. Shane looked panicked.

"But I did! I did. I don't know why they would say that?"

"Are you saying the guard is lying? Why would he do that?"

"I don't know."

"We'd also like to know what you spent that two thousand quid on. Do you know that?"

"I gave it to my mum. I told you." Roper slid down into the chair next to Mike.

"Easy enough to check. We'll just have your mum's financials pulled." Shane looked up.

"But I gave her cash." Roper nodded, smiling.

"And we'll send someone round to check out her kitchen." He hit a nerve. Shane started looking for an escape. "What did you really do with that money?"

"I gave it to my mum."

"Then why are you getting all nervous about us going and asking her about it?"

"I'm not."

"What did you really do with that money, Corporal? Its over two thousand quid. You even missed a car payment and your mates tell us that your car was the closest thing to your heart. A bit odd, I think, a lad like you mooning over a car instead of a girl." Mike commented to the side. Roper smirked. Shane remained silent. "Did you get yourself into something? Something you can't get out of?" Mike asked, gentling his tone, almost fatherly.

"My dad loved cars, before he died." Shane whispered.

"And you don't even have that now. Pity." Roper rather enjoyed playing the bad cop, especially in his present mood. "And what about all that insurance money?" He flicked a look at the paper on top of the folder. "Another ten thousand quid there. What's a soldier like you need twelve thousand quid for?"

"I still have that."

"Really? Why haven't you bought a new car if they're so important to you?"

"Well, you lot haven't caught the thief yet, have you?" Shane shot back, getting back some of his mouth. "What's the point of buying a new one just to get it nicked?" He crossed his arms over his chest, a self satisfied smile on his face.

"So where is it?"

"Where is what?"

"The money."

"What money?" Roper resisted the urge to box his ears.

"The insurance money."

"I've got it."

"Where? It isn't in the bank. We've checked." Shane frowned.

"Why are you looking at my bank account? Don't you need some kind of…" He searched for the word.

"Subpoena? Mike offered cheerfully. "Don't you worry It was all legal. So why don't you answer Staff Roper's question. Where is the money?"

"I gave it to my mum for safe keeping." Roper snorted, covering his laugh.

"Quite the mum's boy, there, aren't you?" Roper smirked.

"Don't talk about my mum." Shane threatened. The absurdity of the situation hit Roper.

"So when we check out the fridge, we can check this out, too." Mike commented.

"You leave my mum alone. She doesn't need to be harassed by you lot." Shane threatened again.

"Is there some particular reason you don't want us talking to your mum?"

"She just…she just doesn't need this and I don't see what this has to do with anything anyway. What you after?"

"Well, Corporal, you have to look at it from our perspective. We've got a potential witness leaving a murder scene without giving a statement, lying to us after the fact. His story doesn't add up with the evidence we've got. On top of that, he's just gone through twelve thousand quid and has no good explanation for it." Mike sat back. Shane just looked back and forth between them.

"Well?" Roper prompted him.

"What do you think I've done?" Shane asked.

"Well, what have you done?"

"Nothing. I haven't done anything. I don't even know how some murder and my bank records even…well, they aren't even connected and I haven't done anything wrong in either case." A rap sounded on the window. Roper glanced behind him, nodding.

"Interview suspended, 17:00. Staffs Donnell and Roper leaving the room." Mike clicked the recorder off, following Roper out. Burns waited for them.

"I thought you might have had him there for a moment."

"Definitely has a soft spot for his mum." Mike joked.

"Well his bloody sergeant has been raising holy hell out here."

"Sgt. Foley?" Roper asked. Burns shot him a look.

"He's rather agitated about having to lose 'one of his best lads'." Burns paced. "Have we got anything on this character?"

"Nothing solid, Boss, just some things that aren't adding up." Roper admitted.

"Did he give you anything at all?"

"Well, we can check that bit about giving his mum the money out. Maybe having a go at his mum will rattle him."

"And we think he's the one getting the drugs through the base?" Burns asked.

"He could be. Foley said that he transports around the base. We don't want to warn him off that. If he thinks this is just about a soldier getting shot, maybe he won't stop his other activities."

Burns rubbed his head, starting to pace again.

"Right. All right. Let him go. We'll keep an eye on him in the meantime. Check him out. Check all of it out. Bugger his mum if that's what it takes." Burns dismissed them.


	5. Day 5

**Basra, Iraq **

**Day 5**

Jo's stomach growled. She groaned, rolling over, finding herself staring at the laughing pocked ceiling. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them again. The ceiling was still there.

She growled to herself, pushing her body up to sit against the cool wall. Her wrists were still bound behind her, the restraints cutting into her skin. She could feel dried blood crusting on her fingers.

She looked around her prison, trying to come up with some sort of situation breakdown, something that she could act upon. The bare bulb burned too brightly, lashing out into each of the four corners of the room. Besides her, the only other thing in the room was the RMP. Jo tried not to look at her. The utter disregard of her fellow soldier pushed her harder to find some way to do something, anything but sit there and wait.

She twisted her wrists in frustration, ignoring the pain. Curling her fingertips, she felt the sharp points of the wire binding her. She struggled, falling over sideways, to unwind the ends of the wire, trying to free herself. Sweat broke out over her brow as she worked her fingers. The ends of the wire slashed through her fingertips, becoming slippery with her own blood. She gritted her teeth as she felt one turn give way. She took a breath and started on the next twist of wire.

Each twist of the wire that she freed up made the next one even harder. She blocked out the sharp rips of pain through her wrists and finger pads determined, desperate, to get loose. Each twist slackened the tightness of the restraint. One last effort resulted in her yanking her hands free. Jo rubbed her wrists, smearing blood all over her skin.

As she pressed on her skin to stop the blood sliding out from the slices in her skin, she looked around to see what to do next. The light irritated her. With her hands free, she unlaced her boot. She pitched the boot at the bulb, rewarded by the shattering of glass. The cell dropped into darkness. Jo sat for a moment, waiting for some reaction from outside the door in the opposite wall. None came. She could not even hear any activity beyond the door. She got up, skirting the wall of the room to avoid the broken glass and felt around to find her boot. Irrational satisfaction filled her when she finally came across it. She crossed back to where she started, sitting down to pull it back on. Some kind of control back in her grasp gave her something to work with. She used touch to pull her hair back to the back of her neck, rearranging the pins to hold the short ends back. In the darkness, she straightened her uniform as best she could.

The darkness did not dispel the presence of the RMP lying lifeless so close to her. The random cruelty of life, that this woman should be dead while Jo still lived angered her beyond anything she had ever felt. The fact that this was not a random act grated her even more. She could do nothing to bring this young woman back to life. The only thing Jo could do for her was to make sure that those that had murdered her were not allowed to continue their crimes.

Her captors had questioned her about who had informed them about the presence of the stolen artefacts in the warehouse. Jo did not know about any informant. As far as she knew, the routine checks in the warehouse had resulted in the findings. Her captors' questions and knowledge seemed to disprove one theory of the case. The Americans were probably not smuggling the pieces out of Baghdad. Iraqi citizens themselves were responsible. In a war zone, the fact that crime continued seemed a horrible blow to the people who were struggling to rebuild their lives. Jo wanted to believe against all of her experience that money was not what made the world turn.

The door slammed open, startling her. Jo tensed, watching in the blackness as a face peered into the darkness, uttering harsh words at finding the light extinguished. He shouted something back down the corridor. The door slammed closed. Jo moved into the corner, pressing herself back. She might have some chance if they only came at her from one direction.

The door slammed back open. Torchlight seared through the darkness. Jo bowed her head as a flare of light hit her face. She got to her feet, ready to fight, as they advanced on her. She curled her fists, waiting. She never got the chance. A shock came out of the darkness. She felt the cold touch of metal on her side. The electricity shot through her body. The shock made her cry out against her will. She could not fight. Her entire body shook. The only thing she could do was press further back into the corner. She tried against her body's shuddering to strike out. Another shock hit her, making her bite her tongue.

Someone grabbed her hair, throwing her to the floor. Jo struggled as someone grabbed her flailing arms, binding them back behind her back again. She threw her head around as a scarf was wrapped around her, blinding her. They heaved her to her feet, propelling her forward.

Jo felt the fresh air as they pulled her from the cell. Hands grabbed her from every direction. She was carried more than walked down the corridor. Jo struggled as much as she could, kicking at the legs of her captors. Their grasp on her arms tightened. It felt as if her bones would be crushed. She heard another door creak open, promising another prison. Using the strength of her captors' hold, Jo twisted her body, pulling her legs up, lashing out. She was thrown forward, landing heavily on another concrete floor. The landing jarred her. For a moment, just one, Jo gave into the pain that shot through her. She gathered her strength, refusing to give in. A shout stopped her quick.

She was thrown into a chair. The scarf around her face was pulled away. She stared face to face with Sowden. A shot of relief coursed through her. His face was beaten, bruised, bloodied but he was still alive. His bleach blonde hair was tinted red with blood. He looked weary, frightened, like a little boy. Jo gave him the only smile she could muster to give him some measure of comfort. He brightened, only a little.

Two men, their faces visible, stood to either side of Sowden. Jo's stomach twisted. If they were showing their faces, Jo knew that they did not intend to allow them to live. To each side of her, another two men also stood. Jo watched them, trying to discern what was going to come next. They grabbed Sowden first. Jo very nearly came out of her chair in protest. She was pushed back into the chair.

"Who told you to search the warehouse?" The man to her left rasped in her ear, as Sowden was pulled upright by his throat. Jo clenched her teeth. She could see the man nod out of the corner of her eye. Sowden's captors punched him viciously in the jaw. "Who told you to search the warehouse?" The question came again. It was everything that Jo could do not to shout out as Sowden yelped in pain. She could feel herself react to his pain, her lip quivering. Anger rescued her. She growled. Her neck cracked as her interrogator let her go with a shake of Jo's head. Sowden's attackers let him go. Jo's interrogator crossed over to Sowden. Jo's guard immediately went up. The man leaned close to Sowden's ear, grinning, watching Jo. He whispered something in Sowden's ear that she could not hear. Sowden reacted, struggling against his restraints.

Jo never saw the blow coming. She fell out of the chair, her vision jarred to blur.

"Who told you to search the warehouse?" Jo was lifted back into the chair. She could barely make out Sowden struggling as they held him down. She had not recovered from the first blow when the second one came. Jo cried out against her will. "Who told you where to look?" Jo gasped for breath as she was tossed back into the chair. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to push away the pain spiking out from her jaw. She spit out blood, hearing one of her teeth clinking off the floor. She coughed, still trying to regain her breath. She lifted her head, shooting Sowden a look to let him know she was not too hurt.

She heard the man to her right move and steadied herself for the blow, twisting around in the chair, kicking him just as the blow fell. Jo fell, landing hard on her knees, hearing the two who had beaten Sowden rush to her attacker's aid. She was yanked from the ground, thrown into her chair. Pain blossomed in her back. She was given no time to recover. A hand grasped her neck, cutting off her air. She struggled desperately.

"What have you found in the warehouse?" Jo heard Sowden sob. She stopped struggling, blearily looking up at him through her loosed hair, letting him know she was still in the fight. She needed to do something, anything, to prop him up. The hand around her throat loosened. Jo gulped in deep breaths.

"Tell me what I want to know and you can spare her. What have you found in the warehouse so far?" Jo winked at him. Sowden clenched his teeth. Jo readied herself for the blow she knew was coming. It came, against the side of her head. She tumbled from the chair again face down on the floor. Again, she was thrown back into the chair.

"Where is our merchandise now? Where are you keeping it?" Sowden shook his head. Jo went flying through the air. She landed, hard, on her shoulder. She rolled over, struggling now not to cry. She kicked out as they advanced on her.

"Josey!" Sowden shouted out as they were on her again.

"Shut up!" she growled back, twisting under the onslaught of punches and kicks landing on her. Her attackers did not bother to put her back in the chair now. Nor did they give her a moment between beatings.

"Who are you investigating? What did the Americans tell you? What are you searching for? Who told you where to search?" Jo could not see past the kicking strikes as Sowden was peppered with questions. She could hear him struggling. She twisted her body, trying to protect herself from the cracks coming quick and constant. She curled over to her side, protecting her belly. A kick landed on her exposed hands bound behind her. Jo cried out as she literally felt her fingers break under the force. She could not stop the sobs breaking from her chest under the pain but her own weakness only made her want to fight harder.

She kicked out as she was lifted once again off the floor. Several of her kicks found homes against the legs of her attackers but did not stop them from flinging her back into the chair. A clank of a pistol being chambered stopped her struggle. She lifted her head as she felt the muzzle of the weapon against her temple.

The threat has the opposite effect than the one that she knew was intended. She was not going to die like this. She jumped to her feet, barrelling into her executor shoulder first. She knocked him off his feet with the momentum of her thrust. She could hear the others coming to his rescue. That did not stop her. She kicked at him with all of her strength, satisfied with his guttural groans as she hit home. She was lifted clear off her feet, still kicking. She saw the man on the floor level the pistol at her. She used her captors' hold on her to jerk out of the way. The shot echoed the room, deafening. The bullet blew past her hip so close she could feel the heat.

Sowden screamed. Jo coiled around. Sowden lay writhing on the ground, blood pouring from where the bullet had hit him in the shoulder. She felt their hold on her loosen. She broke loose from them, hurrying to Sowden's side. No one grabbed her. She leaned down, murmuring soft words in Sowden's ear, trying to calm him. He sobbed like a little boy. She glared at their attackers. The men stood, staring at Jo and Sowden, startled.

"You're okay," she whispered to Sowden. "You've done well." She repeated the words over and over, trying to bring him back from his pain. Inwardly, she steadied herself for what she knew, instinctively knew was coming next. Sowden opened his eyes, peering up at her. She kept eye contact, unspoken strength flowing from her to him. He blinked, taking deep breaths, nodding to her. Jo glanced up as she felt the men rush over her. She curled her fists, waiting, her broken bones grating in her fingers.

What she expected did not come. The men walked over her. The door slammed shut. Jo looked around. She and Sowden were left alone.

"You're okay," she whispered to him again, slumping down against him. "We're okay. We made it." He nodded against her. "We made it." She spoke the words for her own benefit. Inexplicably they had escaped death. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she filed the fact that if their captors were experienced criminals, they would not have hesitated to kill both of them. This was not an act of terrorists trying to further their cause of ridding Iraq of the armies. This was about money. Their captors put on a good show but they were not experienced killers. Instead of doing the next step, killing Jo and Sowden, they had fled the room when the situation had escalated. That little detail gave Jo some comfort.

She curled up next to Sowden, cradling his head against her neck. His nearness, his life, gave her some forlorn hope. She closed her eyes, pressing her face into his dirty hair. She tried not to cry, tried not to give in to the pain coursing through every part of her body. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to feel protected. She wanted someone to hold her.

"Josey," Sowden whispered.

"Yeah?" Her voice sounded strangled to her ears.

"Why is this happening?"

"Never mind that." She shushed him. "Are you all right?" He nodded. "It doesn't hurt too much?" He shook his head.

"I can stand it." He looked up at her. "You?"

"Never better." She lied.

Something woke her. Jo squeezed her eyes shut. If she did not open them maybe she could remain in the oblivion of sleep. Sleep would not take her back. She heard herself sob. Her whole body hurt. She could not escape it. She could not move without a sharp jolt. Her legs, her torso, her arms, her hands, her neck, her head, there was not a single bone that did not grate, a single muscle that was not bruised. For the first time, fear started to creep in. Jo struggled to push it away. She needed something to do, something else to concentrate on.

She opened her eyes. Sowden still curled against her side, his head resting on her shoulder. She checked his shoulder wound. The bleeding had stopped but the skin around the gaping hole looked angry. Infection was setting in, adding insult to injury. She pressed her hand against his forehead. His skin was hot to the touch. She had no way to help him, nothing to give him to cool him. He whimpered in his sleep, nudging closer, sending a spike of pain through her ribs.

Jo looked around. She had no concept of time but it had been hours, maybe days, since their captors had fled the cell after Sowden had been shot. Her stomach growled in response. She had no idea when was the last time she had eaten. Killers or not, they did not have to shoot Jo to kill her. Leaving her here was tantamount to killing her. The only good thing about the aching pain in her head from the punches was that it masked the dehydration headache she knew was lurking somewhere.

Jo' ears perked up. She looked around. Somewhere, some place close, she heard the distinctive clack of an M-15. She pushed Sowden off her, standing up. She walked around the cell, trying to figure out where the gunshots were coming from. She pounded her hand against the wall. The gunfire moved closer. M-15s meant British army.

"Hey!" She yelled as loud as she could, pounding in the wall. "Hey!"

She started running around the cell, limping, hanging onto the wall to hold herself up. The gunfire echoed off the bricks. She could not tell which direction it came from. She made it to the door, pounding on it, yelling as loud as she could.

The door edged open. Jo jumped back then grabbed the edge of the door, yanking it open. She did not see the gun, intent as she was on getting out. The gunshot echoed in her ears. She grunted, falling backward. She landed hard on the floor, looking down where blood blossomed from her side. It should hurt. Silence rushed in her ears. She touched the wet blood draining down her side. She struggled to sit up. She looked up as the gun fired again, again, muffled, distant. She actually saw the bullets bounce around the room without feeling anything. A thud resounded in her head. She hit hard, lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, seeing red. She could not feel anything, hear anything. Blackness edged in. She fought it off. She was not going to die like this.

She rolled over, heaving blood down her chin. She pushed herself up to her knees, falling back down as her leg gave out. The room spun around her. She pulled herself across the floor, reaching out to Sowden. She pulled herself along his leg. For the first time since this whole thing started she did not feel a thing. She collapsed, knocking her chin against his forehead. It should have hurt. She curled herself around Sowden, pressing her face into his hair. She could not even feel his hair against her skin.

She could close her eyes. This mess that was her life could be over.

No. The word resounded in her head. No. She was a soldier. She was not going to die like this. She was not going to let anyone kill her against her will.

The movement of the door caught her attention. She stared as a hulk of a man barrelled through. She watched, detached, as he panned the weapon around the cell. He stepped further into the room. Jo took in his uniform, British army, neat. He levelled the gun at her. She just looked at him. His face was painted, masking his identity. He reached out to her. Jo did not move, just watched him. She could not feel him press his fingers under her chin. Somewhere in her mind, she knew he was checking for her pulse. His mouth moved. He leaned over her, right over her and felt for Sowden's pulse. His mouth moved again. Somewhere she managed the strength to reach up. She rubbed at the paint on his face. She wanted to know who he was. He took her hand, squeezing it. She could feel her broken bones grating against each other but it did not hurt.

Jo saw three more soldiers barrel into the cell behind her rescuer. She saw them pull Sowden away from her. She saw them roll her over onto her back. Another soldier leaned over her. She could see his mouth moving but heard nothing. She stared up at him.

All at once, everything rushed at her. The noise was deafening. Pain ripped through her. She screamed as they rolled her onto a litter. She struggled against the mask pulled over her nose and mouth. Someone held her head down making her fight harder. She tried to turn her head, to see Sowden, to see what they were doing to him. She started sobbing, unable to control the tears.

"Sgt. McDonagh." A smooth voice called to her. Someone held her head still, wrapping something hard around her neck. "Sgt. McDonagh."

A flurry of activity lit off to her left. She saw out of the corner of her eye Sowden being lifted and carried out of the cell.

"Sgt. McDonagh." She looked up. The smear of face paint on his cheek, he was her rescuer. He held her face, his huge hands holding her cheeks. He brushed her hair away from her face. "You're safe now." She tried to say something, anything, to thank him. Thankfully, blackness finally washed in. Jo did not fight it now.


	6. Day 6

**Hohenbruck Army Base, Germany**

**Day 6**

**00:17 hrs, Saturday**

"Why the bloody hell didn't you stop her?" The car door opening, Bruce's voice, startled Roper, making him jump.

"Where the bloody hell did you come from?" Cross asked as he and Roper twisted around in the front seat of the car. Bruce lumbered into the backseat. Bruce closed the door softly, glaring at Roper.

"Why didn't you talk her out of it? She listened to you." Bruce accused. Roper slumped down in his seat.

"She wouldn't listen," was all Roper said. He was tired. He had been up for two days, staring at the constant pictures on the telly of burning vehicles, bodies lying on the streets of Basra, trying desperately to keep alive some hope that the next pan of the camera would not bring a glimpse of her blonde hair.

"Well, hello, Bruce." Cross said, breaking the tense silence.

Roper stared at the sparse grass and hardened dirt on their side of the perimeter fence. He tried to keep the ache in his heart from overwhelming him, tried to maintain his composure, tried to keep the pain, the fear at bay.

"Come to help us capture the bad guys, eh?" Cross' joviality seemed rashly out of place.

"What are you doing here, Bruce? You and Angie were supposed to be away another week?" Roper asked.

"Burns called us back." Bruce relented. "Command is recalling everyone."

The three of them sat silent. The refuge of the car had turned into another kind of prison with Bruce's accusation hanging in the air. Roper had been desperate to get out of the office, to do something.

"What have we got going here?" Bruce finally asked.

"Criminal masterminds at work." Cross joked. "They're bringing cars off the base just ahead." Roper snorted, rubbing his forehead. This was Jo's case, her ludicrous theory.

"We know who 'they' are?"

"Not sure." Roper told him.

"Right. Of course. It wouldn't be that simple, would it?" Bruce muttered.

Roper struggled to keep his eyes open as they waited. A minute turned into an hour. He could hear Bruce breathing in the backseat. Cross moved about next to him, his knees cracking. Roper concentrated so hard on the spot where the fence stood that he gave himself a headache.

A truck lumbered past their concealed position just inside the tree line of the opposite side of the street from the fence. The truck's brakes squealed in the dark as it came to a stop in front of them. They all sat up. The truck pulled into the grass on the other side of the road. A shush sounded as it came to a stop.

The radio crackled.

"Heads up, sir." One of the border guards whispered into his radio. Roper stared through the trees, trying to find some sigh. "A car is coming through. White. Looks like a BMW."

A man, tall, big, got out of the driver's side, coming around the back of the truck. The man opened the doors of the truck, pulling out a set of ramps. Sounds of a motor running reached them from the trees beyond. The man in front of him stopped, facing the tree line where the car was coming through. Roper leaned forward. The fence rolled away, rustling the ground brush. Roper tensed as a white car came through.

"Ready?" Cross asked.

"Wait." Roper whispered. The car turned around in the road, pulling up to the back of the truck. "Wait." He could feel Cross tensing next to him. "Tell your boys to hold." The car pulled into the back of the truck. He heard the car door slam, echoing in the back of the truck. The driver of the car jumped down out of the truck. The moonlight illuminated his face for just a moment before he was shadowed again.

"Christ." Roper muttered to himself.

"What is it? You want us to take them?" Cross asked.

"Its Shane." Roper murmured.

"Who the hell is Shane?" Bruce asked as the truck driver closed the doors of the truck. "Are we going to take them or what?"

"Sir?" someone whispered over the radio. Shane was headed back into the trees. The driver got into the truck.

"What do you want me to tell them?" Cross asked insistently.

"Roper?" Bruce prodded him.

"Tell them to follow him and stay on him until I can get someone over there." Roper made a decision. The truck started up, pulling away.

Roper waited until the truck had pulled off before starting the engine. He left the lights off, pulling out onto the road.

"What are you doing?" Cross asked as they followed the truck down the country road.

"Bruce, get Burns on the phone."

"Yeah, Boss, something's gone wrong. Here's Roper." Bruce handed the phone to him over the seat.

"Boss?"

"What is it, Hippy?" Burns sounded as tired as Roper felt.

"The thief, its Corporal Shane. He just delivered the car to a truck."

"Where are you now?"

"Following the truck, west of the base, along the perimeter road. We've got the border guards following Shane. He headed back onto the base."

"Right." Burns was silent for a moment. "I'll get the RMPs to relieve the guards. You follow the truck. Get Strauss on the phone and let him know what is going on. Keep me appraised of the situation."

"Right, Boss." Roper clicked off the phone, tossing the phone back to Bruce. "Get Strauss on the phone."

"Thomas, its Bruce Hornsby." Roper concentrated on keeping back, not giving their presence up to the truck driver. He flipped on his lights as the truck proceeded around a curve. A drive opened out onto the road, giving them cover as to where they had come from. "Yes, I know what time it is." Bruce joked. "Roper wants to talk to you." Bruce handed Roper the phone again.

"Thomas, its Roper."

"Hippy, do you know what time it is?" Thomas joked.

"Yeah, Thomas, I know." Roper felt himself smile, for the first time in days. "We're following a truck that picked up another stolen car from the base." He heard Thomas moving around.

"Where are you?"

"I don't know the name of the road. It runs along the west side of the base. We're heading north. Wait a minute." The truck disappeared from in front of them. Roper slowed down as they came to an intersection. He looked both ways. The trucks lights were visible down the road heading along the north end of the base. "The truck just turned. It looks like we might be heading back into town."

"All right. Let me contact my colleagues. We will come out to help you. Call me back if something happens."

"Thanks, Thomas." Roper clicked off the phone, tossing it back to Bruce.

"Bit of a round about route back to town." Cross told him. "If he was headed back to town, why didn't he just go back the way he came?"

"You should know. He had to come past the main gate. We've got cameras trained on the road outside the gate." Roper told him. "Why would he go back the way he came after only a few minutes? We might not notice but we just might."

"Clever bastard." Cross murmured.

"Sometimes they're not as stupid as we wish they were." Bruce put in as they followed the truck as it turned along the east side of the base. "Who's this Shane fellow?"

"I'm working a case with the drugs team. Shane is a possible suspect in some drugs that are coming through the base." Roper told him.

"Do we have anything on him?"

"No. It's all circumstantial at this point. On that case, at least. Some things he was telling us weren't exactly adding up. Turns out his car was the first one that was stolen."

"He stole his own car?"

"He missed a payment on it a couple of months ago. He's also been taking couple hundred quid out of his account every week. He said he gave the insurance money to his mum. We're going to check it out."

"How's he connected to the drugs case?"

"He's a regular in one of Danny Johnson's clubs, the Blaue Tür, despite his statement that he's not. We've got him on the CCTV tapes…" Roper trailed off.

"What is it?" Bruce prodded him.

"We have him on tape last Sunday before when we think the car was stolen last week." Roper tried to reach around and grasp the situation. The truck turned onto the main road, leading into town. Roper waited a moment before turning after it. He kept his distance as they covered the distance, crossing into the town itself. He kept one hand on the wheel as he pulled his own mobile from his jacket pocket, dialling Donnell's number. Donnell did not pick up right away.

"Yeah, Donnell." Mike answered, sleepily.

"Mike. Its Roper."

"Yeah, what's happened?"

"We've just witnessed Shane handing off a stolen car to someone. We're following the truck with the car now, into town."

"Stealing cars? What the bloody hell?" Mike swore. "How's this connected to my case?"

"I don't know but we have Shane on tape in the Blaue Tür last week right before another car was stolen. Can you get the surveillance team on and find out if he was in there tonight?"

"Yeah. What the hell?" Mike muttered.

"Call me back on my mobile." Roper told him before hanging up.

The darkened town opened up around them. The truck slowed down on the narrow streets. Roper shifted down, pulling to the side of the road, watching as the truck moved ahead. Bruce nearly hung over the seat. Roper pulled back out onto the street as the truck turned down a side road. He drove up to the side street, peering around the corner. The truck was slowing down. Roper switched off the head lamps, turning slowly along the street. He stopped as the truck pulled into a driveway. Roper pulled the car to the side of the road, shutting the engine off.

"What do we do now?" Cross asked. Roper looked up and down the street. They were shielded from the house where the truck had pulled in by several cars parked on the street. The street was lined on either side by neat houses, all dark. Roper checked his watch. At this hour, the residents would be asleep in their beds.

"What the name of this street?" Roper asked.

"Michaelisstrasse." Bruce told him.

"We need to know what number that house is." Roper mused. The car leaned as Bruce got out. He lumbered down the pavement, stopping and looking about every few steps. The lights in the house turned on. Bruce hunkered down in the front yard of the neighbouring house. After a few moments, he headed back to the car.

"One nine seven." He reported. Roper dialled Thomas' number.

"Yes, Hippy." Thomas sounded a little more awake now.

"197 Michaelisstrasse."

"It looks like he pulled the truck into the garage in back." Bruce told him.

"The truck is in a garage behind the house."

"Right. I'll inform my colleagues and get a car to you."

"Can you find out who the house belongs to?"

"Yes. I will find out right away." Thomas hung up.

"Now what do we do?" Cross asked.

"We wait." Bruce told him. Roper dialled Burns' mobile.

"What have you got, Hippy?" Burns answered.

"We're in town. The truck's parked. Thomas is sending someone down."

"Right. Well, Shane's back in his barracks. I've got a couple of RMPs watching the place to make sure that he doesn't go anywhere. Do we want to pick him up?"

"No. Not yet. I want to talk to Mike before we do anything."

"All right. I'll talk to Thomas. Wait for his men to show up and then get back to base." Burns clicked off just as a car turned onto the street from the opposite end. The car came down the street slowly, stopping next to them. Roper rolled the window down, recognizing one of the investigators working with Thomas.

"Good morning." The man greeted them.

"Its 197." Roper pointed. The investigator, Roper could not come up with his name, turned around, eyeing the house. "He's inside. The truck is in the garage behind the house."

"All right. Will you be staying as well?" Roper shook his head.

"We need to get back to base. Figure out how this is connected to the drugs case."

"All right. We will contact Herr Strauss if the truck or the resident moves."

"Thanks." Roper started the car, pulling away. As he pulled down the street, the Germans pulled into the space they had just vacated.

Howard had walked in. No one remembered to stand to attention. He did not seem to notice.

"Sir?" Burns asked. Howard looked at all of them.

"Sgt. McDonagh has been found. She's in hospital." As one, they all took a deep breath of relief.

"How is she? Is she all right? What happened? How did they find her?" They were all talking at once. Howard held up his hands to quiet them.

"Working on some intelligence, they raided a house in the outskirts of the city. They found both Sgt. McDonagh and Sgt. Sowden, the one who was driving the jeep, as well as an RMP who was all ready dead when they arrived."

"Is she okay? Is Jo okay?" Bruce asked.

Roper sat down heavily in the nearest chair. He almost cried in relief.

"She's in serious condition." Roper looked up. "She was shot in the head." Someone started sobbing. "She was conscious when the insertion team found her. Gave them quite a shock, from what I heard. She was trying to fight them off while they were getting her moved." Burns chuckled.

"That's our McDonagh."

"She's all ready been medivac'ed back to the UK. Northallerton."

"Christ." Roper murmured to himself, rubbing his face. He looked up when he realized everyone was watching him. "Sorry."

"Did they find out what happened?" Frost asked.

"It looks like it has to do with the artefacts being smuggled. They have two men in custody that are talking. They thought the army was coming after them. They wanted to know where their operation was compromised."

"And what? They didn't think we'd notice a couple of our sergeants missing?" Bruce asked sarcastically.

"Or a couple of burning trucks? Dead bodies of our RMPs lying in the street?" Frost added.

"I'll keep you informed if I hear anything else." Howard told them, bestowing a kind smile. He nodded to Burns before heading back to his own office.

"Bloody hell." Bruce muttered, sitting down at his desk. Angie rubbed his shoulder.

Roper flipped his mobile closed.

"It was Burns. Shane's on his way to the main gate."

"Burns wants us to pick him up there."

Bruce turned the car around, heading south to the gate. He pulled up beside the gate house.

"Roper." Cross stepped out. "Hear our boy is on the way."

"So, what's the plan?" Roper smirked at Bruce while Cross rubbed his hands together like a child.

"We stand here and then we arrest him. Sound good to you, Hippy?" Roper chuckled.

"Heads up, car coming." The RMP called out the door of the gate house.

"Keep your heads." Roper cautioned.

The car heading up the road, a beat up saloon was a far cry from his previous car. Roper stood easily, as if he were merely carrying on a conversation as the car approached the gate. He could see Shane looking at him through the windshield. Cross motioned him to pull up to the gate, taking a step around as if to check his identification.

Shane hesitated, looking straight at Roper. He reached down. Roper tensed.

The car sped straight for them. Roper sprinted past Cross after it.

"Shit." Bruce growled, rumbling towards the car.

Shane looked terrified as Roper chased at him. Shane could not keep the car straight on the road in reverse. Even as the car sped up, it began to fishtail on the pavement, crashing through the gate. Roper pounded on the hood as he caught up. Shane nearly ran him over as the car suddenly jumped forward, spinning in a circle. Roper tumbled backwards, loosing his footing, tumbling. Shane spun the car all the way around, taking off back down the road.

"Get in!" Cross shouted, screeching the jeep to a stop. Roper hobbled in as Cross squealed the tires, taking off. Roper held on, looking behind to see Bruce in his car right behind.

"Don't let him get away." Roper ordered as Shane's car disappeared around a curve.

"Bloody hell." Cross muttered as they nearly careened right into Shane's car, half still on the pavement, half off. The driver's door stood open. Shane was gone.

Roper bolted out of the car, jumping over the drainage ditch, into the trees. He could hear Cross yelling for reinforcements as Bruce barrelled into the trees behind him. Roper stopped quickly to get his bearing and listen for Shane's escape.

"Which way did he go?" Bruce was all ready breathing heavily as he came up.

The trees stood quiet.

"Boss…" Roper did not want to ask.

"What is it?" Burns looked at him sceptically. "Well? Out with it." Roper really did not want to ask.

"I need some time."

"To do what?" Burns pushed.

"Its personal." Burns gave him a questioning look. Roper shrugged.

"Anything I should know?" Burns pressed. Roper shook his head. Burns waited.

"I'd rather not say."

"Where are we on locating Corporal Shane?"

"We've notified the locals and border. We've also contacted the local nick where his mum lives, just in case."

"I can reach you on your mobile if I need you?" Roper nodded. Burns sighed. "All right then."

"Thanks, Boss." Roper felt Burns watching him as he grabbed his jacket from his desk chair before leaving.

Roper got into his car and headed out. The drive was one that he had taken many times before. He could drive it in his sleep. He took no note of the passing countryside, intent on his destination.

Roper did not kid himself. His solicitor had been gentle but truthful. Nothing really had changed since the divorce, outwardly anyway. He was still in the army, though why that counted against him when thousands of irreproachable parents served, was a bit beyond him. He still worked long hours and odd days. He still lived in Germany. He would soon be living alone with no one to provide a stable home and schedule for his children. He was still the man that had hit his wife.

During the divorce, he had wanted to escape. He had the nagging feeling that he was letting his children down, not doing enough, giving in too easily, not putting their best interests first, no matter what he had told himself at the time. He had wanted out of the marriage, did what it took, which was essentially abandoning his children. Roper tried not to dwell on the negative points.

He had changed too much since the divorce. He was older, wiser, more sure of what he wanted in life. Now he understood that what he wanted in life was his children, and a life that was living. He did not want to go through each day just like every other day, as if in a fog, getting through one day to the next with no thoughts on the future. This time he was not going to give in. This time he was going to keep on fighting. He was not going to give in so easily.

Roper had another reason for keeping close to his children that had less to do with his own wants as much as his own fears. He had always known Sas was expert at manipulation. What frightened him more were the depths she was willing to sink to when her manipulations failed. This recent round of fighting had shown him a side of her that he had always hoped did not exist. Roper understood her anger towards him over Jo. He could not understand her throwing it in his face in front of Andrew and Claire, who were too young to understand the difficulties between their parents, especially Claire. To use the language she used, to insinuate that he did not love them, it was too much, even for Sas. Saturday morning had shown Roper for the first time that to Sas, the children were just another weapon in her arsenal. He did not doubt that she loved them in her own way but she was not above hurting them to hurt him and that he could not tolerate. For the first time, he was frightened by what she might do to them, if not physically, then surely emotionally.

Having set the whole ugly mess in motion, Roper sat in the car park not sure what to do next. He had done the hardest part, told Sas. He had done the messy part, getting his solicitor involved again. He had set the whole situation on his ear. He could not back out now, run back to Sas to forgive and forget. He felt terrified, and strangely liberated. He started driving north.

The guard at the gate directed him to the hospital. The night was well on its way when he parked outside. Though the air was chilled, he did not feel it. He was working on pure adrenaline now. The desk clerk hesitated when he asked. His credentials got him her room number and through the doors despite the time. His shoes clicked through the quiet wards, echoing. When he reached the room though, he hesitated but could not stop himself. He pushed open the door.

The room lay dim as he stepped inside. Soft, mechanical beeps and clicks shushed through the room. He could see the outline of the bed, a body lying motionless, tubes emerging and hanging to bags on hooks. He stepped closer, not knowing at all if he was ready for what he was about to see.

Roper searched for Jo some place in this battered face. He could only catch a glimpse of her among the ugly bruises, a trace of a cheekbone, a hint of a brow line, her dark lashes. He choked back a groan as he leaned down. A portion of her head was shaved, a long ghastly wound, stitched up, cut through the whole side of her scalp. He could not look at her face, not with her ordeal, her pain, written so clearly there but there was no other place to look. Her neck looked as though she had been strangled; he could see the outline of fingers bruised into her flesh even in this dim. The bruises followed her fluid lines all the way down to the gown, reappearing on her bare arms where blue stitched gashes added themselves on top the blackening bruises. Tubes disappeared under the discoloured flesh of her arms; even her fingers were taped, splinted, broken.

He had to sit down. Then he had to get up. He smoothed what was left of her hair away from her face, pressing his lips against her forehead so lightly so not to hurt her even more. He did not know what he was murmuring, anything, any thing at all to comfort her. He wanted to hold her but was terrified that if he touched her, he would cause her more pain. He caressed her poor arm, running his fingers down to hers, rubbing her thumb, the only one not splinted. He reached back, pulling the chair closer so he did not have to let go of her, afraid if he did, she might slip away. He buried his head in his free hand. Roper did not know how long he had been sitting there, her thumb clasped in his hand. He could feel her warmth, her life, just in that bit of her that he held.

He felt more than anything else when he was no longer alone with her. He looked up, not letting go of her. A tall masculine form stood in the doorway. A voice, softened, somehow familiar reached him.

"Who are you?" The man stepped into the room, standing in the moonlight streaming in the window. Tall, rangy even in the dim, he looked strangely familiar while being a complete stranger.

"Staff Sergeant Phillip Roper, SIB." Roper whispered, not to disturb her. The man nodded, coming closer. He stood at her bedside, looking down at Jo with a softness that seemed out of place in his scarred face, like that of a boxer.

"I'm back, Josey." The man whispered to her, repeating the comforting motion of brushing her hair back. Roper watched her. She did not respond. "I didn't want to leave her alone but I needed a cup of tea." He noticed Roper watching him. "Jason McDonagh. I'm Josey's older brother." He held out his hand. Roper did not want to let go of her. "You're not here to investigate, are you?" he asked when Roper did not shake his hand.

"No. No, I'm not. I'm posted to Hohenbruck." Jason nodded.

Jason walked back into the darkness, reappearing with another chair. He set the chair down next to Roper's, sitting down heavily. They sat there, silently, staring at the bed. Jo never moved. A nurse came in at some point, checking the bank of monitors by the bed, checking Jo carefully.

"How's she doing?" Jason asked. The nurse, a pretty young woman, smiled, nodded before leaving. Jason waited until her footsteps moved on down the corridor. "Do you know how it happened?"

"Not really, they're holding it pretty close. It had something to do with a case." Roper rubbed his finger along the length of her thumb, the only thing he could do. He could feel Jason watching him.

"Mum was hoping she'd stay in Germany, that she wouldn't be called up to go to Iraq. But not our Josey. Always has to be in thick of it."

"Yeah."

"You worked with her?" Roper nodded. "Is she good at it?" Roper smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, she's good at it. Much to the chagrin of our Sgt. Major." He laughed. Jason chuckled.

"Tweaks his kettle, does she?" Roper nodded, laughing. "When she was a kid, she used to pick out the biggest kid and have a go at him, just to prove her point."

"A couple of colonels and captains. Got herself busted down to corporal a couple years ago." Roper looked over at him.

He could see now why Jason looked so familiar. He had the same blonde hair, same brown eyes. Roper could even see that intangible strength in his expression, the set of the jaw, pretending ease in the face of adversity. His face was battle scarred, prominent broken nose, grooves gouged out of his cheeks. The traces of violence seemed out of place in the man who looked at his sister so tenderly.

"How is the family handling this?" Roper asked. Jason set his mouth.

"Mum's upset. She had to go home. She couldn't stand looking at her like this anymore. Joe is minding the shop while I'm gone, keeping busy. Jack's catching a flight back from America. He should be here tomorrow." He went silent for a moment but Roper could tell he was not done. "You always know this is a possibility. She's a soldier. Soldiers get hurt but you never think it's going to happen. Pray it doesn't happen. When she transferred to SIB, I thought, maybe…you know?" Roper nodded. "But not Josey. She has to go out looking for trouble. I wished she'd come home, maybe help out at the shop but she'd never be happy. She's still looking for something."

"Did they tell you how…" Roper did not want to make Jason relive any of this.

"They beat her up. Broken ribs, broken fingers." Jason strangled a sob. "Shot her twice, once in the side, once in the head. But she's good. She's stable. The bullet didn't enter her skull, just sort of bounced off the bone." Roper laughed, knowing it was inappropriate but could not help himself. Jason frowned at him.

"When we found out, Burns tried to cheer us up by telling us she had a really hard head." Jason stared at him, making Roper feel like a chastised schoolboy then broke into a smile, Jo's smile.

"Doesn't she just." They both chuckled then went silent. "They say none of her injuries are life threatening. They're just worried about her brain. Something about bruising from the headshot, her brain sloshing around or something. I didn't quite understand what they were saying. They say we won't know how bad it is until she wakes up."

"She hasn't been awake yet?"

"She's opened her eyes but she wasn't really there, you know? You could just tell." Jason looked over at him. "Do you know this other fellow that was with her? Sowden, I think his name is." Roper shook his head. "What about the rest of her section?"

"I know one of the Staff Sergeants but none of the others."

"How are they? I heard the police took a toll but nothing about her team." Roper grimaced to himself.

"Staff Haith is all right, escaped without a scratch. Everyone else is dead.

"Christ." Jason muttered.

Roper did not know what to say to make him feel better. They lapsed into silence again, watching Jo lying there, waiting. There was nothing else they could do.


	7. Day 7

**Northallerton, England**

**Day 7 Saturday**

She ran. She ran so hard but she never moved a step. All the time, the black menace kept coming closer, closer. She could not push the fear away now. It overwhelmed her, closed over her. She needed to get away. The wind of the menace coming blew over her, telling her that she was too close. She needed to get away.

Jo knew she was safe and the menace was gone. She did not know why. She did not know what it meant. She just knew that she was finally safe. A soft whiteness wrapped her up, protected her.

She opened her eyes.

Pain ripped through her skull. It felt as if her head were about to explode, the pressure so intense. She was not conscious of anything else except the jarring pain, making her want to throw up.

She closed her eyes, cutting out the blaring light from above. The darkness behind her eye lids seemed to help. She lay there, slowly becoming aware of the rest of her body. Her head still ached but she could feel her legs, her arms for the first time in she did not know how long. Time passed beyond her understanding. She could only lay there, blackness comforting her.

Agonizingly slowly, she became aware of movement around her. People were near her. She tensed then remembered she was safe. Noise, sounds started to break through the darkness to her ears. Strange sounds, like a computer, came from very near. Soft footfalls tread all over around her. She could hear whispers, voices. She concentrated, trying to hear who was with her. Men, women, she could hear the differences in their voices. One rumbled through under the others, questioning. She knew that voice. Another voice filtered through, a woman. She knew that voice, too.

Jo opened her eyes again. The light blinded her again. She did not want to sink back down into blackness. She turned her head to avoid the light but did not close her eyes. She stared straight ahead as shapes broke through the white blindness. Someone sat next to her.

"Josey?" She concentrated on the form sitting next to her, trying to pull herself out of the fog. "Josey?" Someone touched her hand.

Too slowly, the form next to her came into focus. Jo felt like crying. He was holding her hand.

"Josey?"

She did not want to look away from him.

"Josey?"

He looked terrified. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, to let him know it was all right now.

"Josey?"

She moved her fingers around his. A smile, only a small one, curved his lips.

"Josey?" She turned her head to the voice.

The overhead light ripped through her skull again. She could not cry out. She squeezed his fingers around his, trying to reach out somehow.

"She's in pain." His voice made the pain retreat, only a little. She squeezed his fingers again, to thank him.

Euphoria engulfed her. She breathed easier as the pain receded to a dull throb. She tried to speak. Her lips moved but the only sound she could hear was a grating, raspy groan. She tried again.

"Turn off the lights," she pleaded, unsure if the sound issued from her was even recognizable.

The lights flicked off but a light flashed bright in her eyes. Jo tried to pull her head away, closed her eyes. Her head was held still. Jo fought against the hold on her, squeezing her eyes tighter but could not fight it off. Her eyelid was lifted against her will. The light flashed in her eye again. She gathered all her strength together and lashed out, pushing whomever it was away. All around her, voices erupted.

"Josey." She opened her eyes. Jason leaned over her, close. She could feel him brush her hair back. "You're all right now. You're safe."

"My head hurts," she mumbled. Her voice sounded stronger but slurred.

"The doctors need to check on you."

"No more lights." He shushed her.

"It won't hurt at all." He whispered to her, moving away. A stranger moved over her.

"The light hurts," she mumbled.

"All right, all right," the stranger told her. "Its only for a moment." The light came again. She lashed out again, knocking something from his hand. The movement jerked her whole body.

She lost contact with his hand. She reached out in the air, reaching for him again. She felt his hand close over her fingers again, calming her. She held onto him tightly.

"Don't let go," she murmured.

"I won't." He appeared next to her, standing. He held her hand. For the first time, she could see her own hand, the metal and tape encasing her fingers, all of them except for her thumb.

"Jo? Can you tell me where you are?" The stranger moved in again. Jo looked around.

The room, dimmed but still too bright, was crowded with people. She could see Jason and her mum. She turned her head slowly. There he stood, holding her hand. She looked at each of the other faces in turn, not recognizing any of them. They all wore white coats. She looked around again. She was in a bed. Machines peered over her to one side. She looked at the man quizzing her. He wore a white coat. Something was stitched into the fabric but she could not focus enough to read it.

"Hospital?" she made a guess. He smiled broadly.

"Do you know why you're here?" He asked, turning her head gently. She could feel his fingers touching her scalp.

She thought, trying to think of anything that might have happened to land her here. Nothing came to her, nothing at all. Puzzled, she tried to think of the last thing she remembered. Her memory was cloudy. Nothing would take form. She thought harder.

"Do you know why you're here?" He repeated the question. She had heard him the first time. She just could not come with any reason at all why she should be in hospital. She tried to think of the last clear memory she had. It was like she was watching a fuzzy screen, the picture not clear enough for her to even get a hint of what she was supposed to be seeing. "That's all right. I'm sure it will come back to you." He leaned over her, checking the machines on the other side of the bed. Smiling down at her, he moved away.

Her mum came into view over her. Tears streamed down her aging face. She seemed to want to speak but nothing came out. Her mum burst into loud sobs, shaking her head and moving away. Jo watched her go, wanting to reach out to her but not wanting to let go of his hand. Jason reappeared over her. She tried to smile at him, feeling, for the first time, that several of her teeth were missing. She looked up at him, wanting to know what had happened, yet somehow not wanting to.

"Why don't we give her some space." Someone said. The crowd moved away from her. She watched them leave through the door.

She turned her head to look at him again.

"Hey," he leaned closer.

"Roper," she murmured.

"What happened?" Jo murmured, despite pain the sound of her own voice caused. She waited until her mum and Jason left the room before she asked. She could hear Roper shift in the chair next to the bed. He had not moved from that spot since she had woken. His presence comforted her, made her feel safe, despite not knowing what she was supposed to be afraid of.

"Jo…" Roper's voice sounded strange.

"Just tell me."

"It happened in Basra." He started. Jo turned her head. Pain shot through her skull.

"What was I doing in Basra?" Her vision blurred but she could see Roper staring at her.

"You – you were posted there."

"When?" Confusion added to the pain making her only more overwhelmed.

"Not even a week ago. Are you telling me you don't remember?" He leaned closer. Jo backed away, the effort nearly killing her. She did not know why she did it.

"Its all fuzzy." She admitted. "What happened there?"

"You can't remember any of it?"

"I told you." She growled, reaching up to touch her head where it hurt. Her hand touched bare skin. She frowned, rubbing her head. She encountered a bandage. "Roper, what happened?" She asked more urgently now. Half her head was shaved.

"There was an attack, a bad one. You got hurt." Jo knew he was lying.

"What else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Roper -." Jo wanted to yell at him, tell him to stop protecting her. "What else happened?"

"Nothing else happened." He lied.

"If you're not going to tell, don't lie." She groused.

"It doesn't matter." He admitted that he was lying. Jo closed her eyes.

"Where am I?"

"In hospital."

"Don't be thick, Roper. Which hospital?" This conversation was taking all she had.

"Northallerton." It was really bad then. She would not have been evacuated to the UK if she were not seriously hurt. She started an inventory. Her head, her hand, her side, she was the walking wounded but she was not walking.

She tried to pull herself up, failing miserably. Roper stood up, touching her, helping her up. Jo glared at him. The effort was too much. She could not even make her body curl up to protect herself, from what, she still did not know.

"What do you remember?" Roper asked so softly she almost could not hear him over the roaring in her head.

"What do you mean?" She really did not want to talk any more.

"What's the last thing you do remember?" He asked.

"I don't know." She managed to look over at him. He looked crestfallen. Jo frowned to herself. She did not know what he was talking about but she doubted it had anything to do with Basra.

"Staff Sergeant." Roper was on his feet at attention.

Howard stood in the door, in uniform. Burns stood right behind him, glaring a hole in Roper's head. Roper winced at the ferocity of Burns stare like a child caught stealing sweets. Howard did not seem to notice. He proceeded in, coming right to her bedside. Jo felt like a very naughty child.

"We've here to see how you're getting along. You gave all of us a scare." Burns and Roper continued their staring contest.

"Sorry, Sir." Jo mumbled.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be back on your feet in no time."

"Staff Sergeant, can I see you outside." Burns growled. It was not really a question. Roper followed out into the hall. Howard stood over her, making her feel even smaller.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've had a go with the whole base rugby team, Sir." Jo admitted. She could see Burns stood there, staring off into space, eyes huge, not moving, outside the door. Roper stood out of sight around the doorframe.

"Personal issues, eh? You lead me to believe you needed time with your family. You lied to me. Now I find you here. Its completely inappropriate." Burns' quiet tone only just made it to Jo's ears. She could not hear Roper's response. Howard seemed to be ignoring them.

"You're getting on here all right here, then?" Howard asked, trying to catch her attention back. Jo looked at him. "Has your family been in?"

"You lied to me. To me. To me, you lied, of all people." Burns leaned close. "I have stood by you, advised you, given you more leeway than anyone ever would have. I have covered for you –"

"Covered for me how?" Roper finally raised his voice.

"I have put my reputation on the line and this is how you repay me? By lying to me? You led me to believe that you were spending time with your family." He repeated himself, seeming to not notice. "Completely inappropriate." Jo glanced over at Howard. On top of the pain, now embarrassment piled on top. Roper lied to come here, to be with her. Now even Howard knew.

Burns started pacing.

"Lied to me. Completely inappropriate. Throwing away a chance with your family, your children and I find you here. After I told you." Not even Howard could ignore them now. Jo wanted to curl up and die. "Completely inappropriate." Burns stopped, looking over at him. "What did you just say?" Burns stared over at where Roper must have stood. Even Jo could tell whatever Roper had said had shocked Burns into silence. Burns looked into the room at her. Both she and Howard just looked at him. He had the good grace to look embarrassed, moving out of their line of sight.

Jo could not even look at Howard. Burns finally came back in, coming to Jo's bedside.

"One day and you're all ready in trouble." Burns was saying, tenderly despite his words. "What are we going to do with you?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Jo mumbled, utterly embarrassed.

"What is it with you? Are you a magnet for trouble?" Burns' gentle tone reminded her more of a father. Burns' expression, tender, genuinely pained at her appearance, strengthened the father image. On minute Burns is bellowing at Roper and the next he is leaned over her, chiding her to take her mind off what she had gone through. The image left her ill at ease.

"Hey." Jason rescued them from the moment. Her mum stood behind him. Burns and Howard stood.

"Ma'am," Howard held a hand out to her. "I'm Captain Howard. This is Sgt. Major Burns. We worked with your daughter in Germany." Her mum did not take Howard's hand. She looked over him at her. "I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances."

"Ma'am." Burns nodded to her.

"This never would have happened if she weren't in the army." Her mum responded. Howard flicked a quick look at Roper.

"Mum." Jo protested. "Not now."

"You were always your father's daughter."

"Mum." Jason tried to lead her back outside. She brushed him off.

"He was always telling you the stories of the heroic military. Honour. Loyalty. When you should have been playing with dolls." This was the first time she had voiced her opinion. Jo had always known though.

"Mum, I'm sure these gentlemen don't need to know this." Jason tried again to steer her away.

"You should be home, helping your brother with the shop, not being shot at in some god forsaken country." She was openly weeping now. "Look what happened to you. Look at what you did to my daughter." She burst into loud sobs, pushing away at Jason.

"Mum," Jo tried mournfully. "It isn't their fault."

"I can't take this. I can't see you like this." She pushed Jason away, heading out the door herself. "I'm going home." She mumbled.

"I'm sorry about this." Jason apologised. "I'm going to go after her." He left, looking both ways down the corridor before disappearing from sight.

Howard and Burns stood there in the aftermath of the family drama. Jo could not hide her embarrassment, not knowing what to do to dispel the moment.

"Well, we'll leave you alone now." Howard finally said.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Sir." Jo managed. Howard nodded at her, directing a pointed look at Roper before heading out. Roper stood back, waiting.

Burns still stood, looking down at Jo. She avoided his gaze.

"You'll take care of yourself?" Burns asked quietly. She nodded without looking at him. "All right, then." He turned around. The gentleness dissipated as his gaze fell on Roper. His face hardened, sparks almost coming from his eyes. Burns came right in front of Roper, staring him dead in the face. "You had better be in the office, working busily away, on time on tomorrow. Or this will not go away." Burns held his stare for a long moment to emphasize his point. Burns held himself stiff as he strode out.

Roper expelled the breath. He stared at the wall before looking over to Jo, as if to see if she had seen Burns parting shot. She curled up, facing the bank of monitors. Jason walked back in.

"Can you stay with her? I'm going to get mum to the train. I'll be back."

"Are you okay?" She nodded but did not turn over. "Is your headache worse?' She nodded, still facing away from him.

She heard him settle back into the chair. The black pit in her stomach yawned wide.

The nurse came in. Jo turned over for her. She did not resist, staring at the ceiling, while the nurse checked her over. She just lie there, limp, no fight in her. The nurse pushed a needle into her intravenous.

"What's that?" she asked, concerned.

"Its something for the pain." The nurse calmed her. Jo just lay there while the nurse turned her head, checking the gouge through Jo's skull. Seemingly satisfied, the nurse winked at her cheerily on the way out.

Jo lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. Slowly her eyes closed.

"What was that between you and Burns?" She asked, startling him. Her voice sounded dreamy, softened to her.

"Don't worry about it."

"Roper." She meant it as a reproach but it did not quite work.

"I said don't worry about it."

"You're going to have to tell me about it sooner or later." She murmured. There was not even any fight in her voice. She was going through the motions of their daily dialogue without the insistence behind it.

She rolled over, facing him.

"You should get back to base." She could barely keep her eyes open. He leaned forward, tracing the line of her brow.

"I'll go in a while," he whispered.

"You have to go." He frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked, concerned.

"You know what I mean. It won't work. It won't ever work." She mumbled. The drugs made this so much easier. "You have to go back." She did not just mean to Germany and his face told her he knew it.

"Jo." She shook her head, feeling her brain slopping about inside her skull.

"You have to go. Now." She hated the softness of her own voice, drugged, and she hated the guilt on his face. She managed to roll over, facing away from him to avoid that guilt. "Just go." She closed her eyes. He did not move.

The drugs worked too well. She could not stop herself from falling asleep.


	8. Day 8

**Germany**

**Day 8**

**05:15 hrs, Monday**

"Roper." His mobile rang just as he drove into the limits of town.

"Where the hell are you?" Burns barked.

"I'm in town. What is it?" He tried to keep the anger out of his voice. He was tired, too tired to deal with Burns now.

"Get over to 2408 Fennstrausse. Its on the north side of town." Burns growled.

"What's happened?" Roper asked but Burns clicked his mobile off.

Roper took a side street. He knew where Fennstrausse was, a residential street near where he used to live when he first came here. The street was swamped with police cars, both marked and not, when he turned down. Roper parked near Burns' car.

"That was quick." Bruce murmured as he walked up to where he and Burns stood.

"What's happened? Whose house is this?" Officers were coming every which way. A coroner's van pulled up.

"One of our car thieves got himself murdered." Bruce told him when it became obvious that Burns was not going to.

"Who was it? Not Shane?" Roper asked, following them up to the front door where Thomas stood.

"No. Heidel." Bruce muttered.

"This way." Thomas did not greet them with his usual friendliness. He led them into the house.

The place had been completely tossed. Even Roper could tell that this was not a robbery. The total disarray was not the mark of someone searching for valuables. Most people did not hide anything in the throw pillows of their sofas and most burglars did not bother to split them open looking. Thomas led them into the kitchen.

"Bloody hell." Bruce muttered. Roper very nearly laughed at the overstatement. It was not funny though.

Every possible surface in the room was doused with blood, the walls, the appliances, even the shelves of the refrigerator whose door hung open. The two, Per Erik Heidel, and a female Roper did not know sat in chairs on either side of the table. They lay with their heads on the table; face down in pools of blood. The backs of their heads were gone. Their wrists were bound behind their backs, around the backs of the chairs.

"Executed." Thomas commented. That much was obvious. "Footprints lead out of the back door and across the yard."

"What is this?" Burns asked.

"Maybe Johnson didn't like his moonlighting." Roper theorized. "Heidel was a weak link if he got caught."

"Do we know Heidel is even involved with anything beyond the thefts?" Burns slapped him down.

"He worked for Johnson." Roper muttered. Burns did not even bother to look at him, surveying the carnage.

"Well, your theories have gotten us bugger all nowhere up to this point. Any reason I shouldn't stop listening to you?" Burns sent back. Thomas and Bruce just stood there, looking at them.

"They were both shot in the back of the head." Thomas stated the obvious again, as if trying to dispel the tension.

"Do we have anything on how Johnson deals with problems?" Roper asked him. Thomas shook his head.

"Nothing."

"Have you seen anything like this around here?" Bruce asked. Thomas shook his head.

A police officer came in, whispering something in Thomas' ear. Whatever it was got Thomas' attention. He turned to look behind them.

"Bloody hell." Bruce repeated himself.

"Quite." Roper said without thinking.

The officer brought Corporal Shane down the back stairs.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Burns blurted out.

"They found him hiding in the attic." Thomas told them.

Shane stood transfixed, staring at the two bodies. He had wet himself.

"Get him out of here." Burns bellowed, forgetting that the men going about their jobs were not soldiers. Even so, the officer snapped to attention, pulling Shane out to the living room. "Go talk to him. Find out what the hell is going on here." Burns barked at he and Bruce. Roper rolled his eyes but moved to obey.

Shane sat on the front stairs. A paramedic draped a blanket around him, checking him over.

"Well, well, well, looks like you've gotten yourself into a right mess now." Roper commented, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approached the soldier. Shane looked frightened.

"You've got to get me out of here." Shane burbled.

"Oh, you're getting out of here, all right. You're going right to a cell. Thought you were pretty clever, didn't you?" Roper smirked. "No less than twenty RMPs saw you take that last car. What was it that you needed the money for? Are you going to tell us now?" Shane blinked, peering up at him.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know just get me out of here." He looked around desperately. "They'll kill me, too, if you don't get me out of here." Shane sobbed.

The paramedic looked to Thomas, nodding. Burns came out of the kitchen.

"What has he got to say for himself?"

"He seems to think he's the one dictating terms." Bruce joked.

"He's mucking up my patch. He'll be lucky if I don't have him up on charges for that." Burns growled. "Not to mention getting me out of bed at this hour."

"Why would they want to kill you?" Roper asked Shane.

"I swear, get me out of here and I'll tell you anything, sir. I swear. I promise. Please." Shane blubbered.

"Who is the woman in the kitchen?" Roper pressed.

"Get me out of here." Shane screamed.

"She's Heidel's girlfriend." Thomas filled them in.

"Was she part of your little crime ring?" Roper asked.

"I don't know, I don't know. I swear just get me out of here." Shane jumped to his feet, a new stain flooding down the front of his pants.

"Why were they executed? Who's after you? Is it Danny Johnson?" Shane slumped to the floor, sobbing. "We're not going to get anything from him now, Boss." Roper forgot for a moment that Burns could not care less what he thought. Burns did not answer. He turned to Thomas.

"Well, Herr Strauss? How do you want to play this?" Thomas looked at him, perplexed. His face cleared as he figured it out.

"I can allow you to take him back to your base as long as we can speak with him once he is able."

"Of course." Burns turned to them. "Bruce, put him in the back of the car."

"Right, Boss." Bruce pulled Shane up from the floor by the arm. "Get on with it. Come on then."

"Put something down on the seat first!" Burns bellowed out after them. Roper smirked. "All right, Hippy," Burns said in his old conspiratorial whisper, "get him back to base and find out what is going on with this. I want a full report as soon as I get back."

"Right." Burns glared at him, as if suddenly remembering that he was furious with Roper. Roper turned and left before Burns could say something else.

"Well?" Bruce asked as he came out.

"Well, what?" Roper shot back. Bruce had all ready gotten Shane into the back of the car.

"That's not just Burns' normal morning sunniness."

"Put Shane in the back of my car." Roper said.

"Did you see her?" Roper looked at him. "Well?"

"Yeah." Roper admitted.

"How is she?" Roper did not know how to answer.

"She's awake," was all Roper said. "Get Shane into the back of my car. Burns wants me to take him back to base and get it all out of him."

"Right."

Shots rang out just as Bruce turned to grab Shane. Roper ducked as the back window of the car exploded. Another whistle sizzled through the air. Police scattered, rolling on the ground, running for cover any place there was any.

Roper popped his head up.

"Get down!" Bruce bellowed at him from under the car.

Roper looked over at the car. In the backseat, Shane slumped down. Blood had sprayed even to the front windshield.

Storming did not even begin to describe Burns present mood. Roper just stayed as much out of his way as possible as the team gathered in the incident room. Bruce still had the stains of Shane's blood drying on his jacket. He still looked a little shell-shocked from the whole scene. Gunfire was something to be expected in a war zone, not in a quiet little street in a quiet little town in Germany.

"Where does this leave us?" Burns finally asked quietly, too quietly. He did not even stop his pacing when Thomas walked in, flicking only a glance.

"No where, Boss." Bruce admitted, looking around uncomfortably. "With both Heidel and Shane dead, the theft case is closed."

"What about this Jesckle?"

"The news is not good, I'm afraid." Thomas spoke up. "He is dead, too. Stabbed last night. We had him in custody. Apparently one of the others stabbed him while on the way to dinner."

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Burns muttered, probably to himself.

"Johnson's cleaning house." Mike told him, unaware of Burns' mood swings. "Heidel was a weak link. If he got caught in the whole car scandal, he might talk about something more important to get himself out of the fire. Shane, too."

"So we really think Shane was Johnson's lad here?"

"Seems so, Boss." Roper cut in. "Johnson's the only one in this area with the wherewithal to try a stunt like this. He's trying to take over the whole drug trade over in Hamburg."

"And dropping bodies left and right over there, sir. It's not such a stretch that he'd drop a couple here. It isn't as surprising if you look at the big picture." Mike finished Roper's thought.

"Well, we bloody well can't have bodies dropping all over the place, now can we? So where do we go from here?"

"Well, with all due respect, sir, your section's interest in this case has pretty much run it's course, with Thomas' boys grabbing up the shooter from the club and your car ring sewn up." Mike stated frankly. "We'll stay on Johnson, to be sure. Time will be the tell if Shane really was the leak."

"How?"

"If the quantity on the street goes down, prices go up, we'll be able to tell if Johnson's having supply trouble."

Burns looked him over. He turned to Thomas.

"Well? Have you got anything to say about all this?" Thomas thought about it for a moment.

"I'd have to agree with Staff Sgt. Donnell." Thomas concurred.

"So that's it?"

"Looks like it, Boss." Roper spoke up.

"Bloody untidy is what it is." Burns remarked, slamming the door to his office.

"Roper." Burns popped his head out of his door as Roper was leaving. Roper stopped. "Can I talk to you?" Roper did not like his conciliatory tone. He hesitated. Burns waited. Roper gave in, following him in. "Drink?"

"No, thanks." Roper sat down in the chair in front of Burns' desk. Burns leaned back in his chair, avoiding looking at him.

"Heading home?" Roper rolled his eyes, readying for another assault.

"Out for a drink with Donnell." Burns nodded. He nodded some more, as if he could not quite get out what he wanted to say. Roper was not in the mood for another lecture about why he should not be with Jo. He still had to figure out a way to make her understand.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about." Burns started and stopped.

"I figured that." Roper prompted him. Burns looked over at him.

"Right. Well." Burns pulled a bottle out of his desk, pouring himself a drink. He held out the bottle to Roper. Roper shook his head. "There's going to be some changes around here."

"What changes?"

"Well, it seems that I'm something of an old dog and its either time to move up or move out." Roper did not see where he was going. Burns watched him. "I've been accepted to officer training school." Roper just sat back, staring at him. Burns grinned half-heartedly. "It was either that or sink into oblivion of counting blankets."

"I had no idea." Roper murmured.

"Yeah, well." Roper did not even know how to respond.

"Who's going to be taking over?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Captain Howard has asked for my recommendations on who it should be."

"And?"

"I told him you." Roper just sat there still, digesting that. Burns watched him. "Nothing is official, of course. Howard still has to sign off on this but you'll be taking over when I leave."

"Well," was all Roper could come up with. "When's all this going to happen?"

"Probably not for a couple of weeks."

"Why are you telling me now?" Burns mused over it.

"I've given you a bit of a hard time lately. I wanted you to know why. Running a section like this takes a lot. The people under your command need to feel that their leader is solid, that they can rely on him no matter what is going on."

"Right." Roper could taste the bile coming up in his throat.

"You understand what I'm talking about then?" Burns asked. Roper stared at him.

"Yeah. I understand what you're saying." Roper did not but he was not going to tell Burns that. Keeping Sas around had nothing to do with him being a capable leader. If anything, it left him with a distinct disadvantage. The stress at home gave him no time to unwind, leaving only more stressed when he came in the morning. Sgt. Major or not, he was not going back on his decision to be done with her once and for all.

5


End file.
